


Alongside You, Always

by connorssock



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Car Accidents, Despair, Guilt, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pneumonia, Prosthesis, Sickfic, Tears, sepsis, unintentional neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-01-15 00:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18487975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/connorssock
Summary: Following a traffic accident, Gavin loses both his legs and his arm. Recovery is a difficult process for everyone, even when there's a genius brother involved who helps design the world's first artificial limbs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags please! They may change with later chapter a little, but most important and warning tags are already there.
> 
> Updates will hopefully be every Tuesday and Friday.

While it was fairly rare that Fowler hollered across the bullpen, it sometimes happened. He leaned against the railing and hollered across the room.

“Reed! HR as busting my balls again about you not taking holiday again. Take the afternoon off and get them off my arse, will you?”

Gavin grumbled under his breath but waved Fowler off.

“You got this, Tin Can?” he asked Nines as he began tidying his things away. Folders were stuffed in drawers, computer turned off and he ended by tucking his chair under too. All in all, it looked like a tidy mess.

“Enjoy your sudden afternoon off, I’ll see you this evening,” Nines replied and leaned into Gavin’s touch as they said goodbye.

The precinct fell back to its usual hum of background noise as people got on with their work. The TV in the breakroom and the walls played the news and was mostly ignored by everyone unless they were bored out of their minds. It only looped major events and after the second viewing became rather mind numbing.

“Getting home is going to be interesting.” Connor nodded at the screen for Hank’s attention. It showed footage of queues along the 96 and well into the city following a two lorry crash followed by a few more cars thanks to careless rubberneckers. Hank cursed, the whole city was going to be in a deadlock for hours on end.

“Hank, Connor, you’re needed on the scene, they’re inundated so it’s all hands on deck. Take Nines with you.” Fowler had appeared by their desk, eyes fixed on the scene.

Arriving at the scene was an adventure in itself, blue lights blazing, people tried to move out their way but it was slow going. At long last, they got there and were out the car. It looked like an utter mess, One lorry smashed into the back of the other, at least the driver had been able to get out of the cabin relatively unharmed. He was being questioned by one of the officers once the ambulance crew had checked him out.

On the other side of the road were three cars piled up, obviously having tried to check out what was going on over the barrier with the lorries, one had hit the divider while the other two piled into the back of it.

“Connor, Nines, do your freaky android shit,” Hank ordered before going over to the officer who had taken the lorry driver’s statement.

“Lieutenant,” she nodded, “it’s fairly straightforward on this part. He was on his phone, glanced down, didn’t realise that the lorry in front was slowing down for the junction. Keeps saying he saw something fly off into the undergrowth, said it was a man but a cursory sweep has found nothing. He may have seen debris which is what we’ve put it down as.”

“Thanks,” Hank’s mouth pulled into a grim smile. “You stay with him for now.”

“Sir.” She threw him a nod and walked back to the driver.

It was slow going, it took hours to sort everything out, pictures, evidence, filing it all. Both Connor and Nines had reconstructed the events and came to the same conclusion, careless driving from multiple people.

“Jesus,” Hank swore and sat on the hood of the car, “why can’t people just obey the rules? Why do they think their social interactions can’t just wait until they stop?”

“Then we’d be out of a job,” came Connor’s quip.

“And the world would be a better place,” Nines joined them. “Are we ready to head back? Gavin will be antsy if I’m late home again.”

They were getting ready to leave, there wasn’t much left to be done other than the wreckages to be towed away. The truck for that was already there and pulling the front lorry away. Something clattered to the ground as it moved and shouts went up. Flattened and mangled almost beyond recognition was what looked like a motorbike.

“Shit, I’ll call it in.” Hank shoved away from the car and grabbed his phone as he walked closer. The phone rang a few times before Fowler finally picked up.

“Jeffrey,” Hank greeted him, “complication. There was a motorbike between the lorries, no sign of the rider. Could you run me a number plate recognition and call in a search party?”

He ambled closer, winced at the remains of the bike and couldn’t help but hope that the rider was off somewhere having a disbelieving laugh about how lucky their escape was. In the setting sun, he spotted the two halves of the plate.

“Here, we go,” he muttered into the phone, “just found the number plate, you ready?”

“Whenever you are,” Jeffrey replied. Silence stretched across the line and he could hear Hank swallow thickly. “Hank?”

“No need to run the plates,” Hank’s voice was soft and trembling. “It’s Gavin’s.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it would seem I cannot keep to a longer posting schedule, expect updates 2-3 times a week instead of Tuesdays and Fridays.

As soon as Hank put the phone down, he was yelling for Nines and Connor. They needed to find Gavin and find him fast. It had already been hours, he wasn’t the kind to not at least drop Nines a message if something happened. So it could only mean one thing, he was hurt and unable to get help. Hank saw the moment reality slammed into Connor and Nines, their LEDs turned red as they looked at the number plate still clutched in Hank’s hand. As one, they stood back, eyes flicked over the scene, calculating, trying to work out trajectories and probabilities.

“There’s a 54% chance that he is within a 300m range. We should spread out, start the search. Nines and I will take the edges, Hank, you go down the middle,” Connor ordered, nobody questioned him.

It was slow going, the verge dipped into a small hill filled with bushes and undergrowth that ended in a ditch filled with water. Hank’s breath was visible on each exhale and he dreaded to think about how Gavin was faring. His eyes scoured everywhere, cursing at how long the search dogs were taking to get out there. Lower down the banks, he saw a few broken branches, a dent in a bush as though something had crashed through it. Carefully, he picked his way over and peered over it. Some way down was a body, crash helmet hiding the identity but it was one he’d seen so many times before. His legs were in the ditch, gravity pulled him into the water but it looked as though his arm had caught on something.

“Nines! Connor!” Hank yelled and hurried down the slope, slipping and cursing along the way. He got to the body and tried to quell his shaking and he reached forward. The sound of Connor and Nines running towards him helped, knowing that he wasn’t alone with Gavin was a relief. The two androids dropped to their knees on either side, LEDs a solid red.

“We’ll need to move him out the water and remove his helmet.” Nines’ voice was calm in the midst of Hank’s panic. He let himself be talked through holding Gavin’s head, keeping his neck steady while Nines and Connor focused on his spine. On the count of three they moved him and Gavin gave out a weak cry, his arm bending in a way no arm should. A second look and Hank saw the issue. The reason Gavin hadn’t fallen into the water completely was because his arm had been impaled on a root, blood soaked the ground under it.

“Helmet first,” Nines urged. They couldn’t slip it off without moving Gavin’s neck but it needed to come off. As a last resort, Nines forced the visor up, gripped the sides of the helmet there and pulled. With a great crack, it opened like a melon.

Underneath it, Gavin was pale, dark bruises under both eyes and a trickle of blood had dried from his ears. He whimpered as Hank gently dabbed the vomit away from around his mouth, eyes moving from person to person but not comprehending what was going on.

“It’s okay Gavin,” Nines’ voice was softer than Hank had ever heard before. “Help is on the way.”

Both Connor and Nines shed their jackets, draped them over Gavin’s body, LEDs still red. They made no move to try and pull his arm free, all too aware of their lacking medical protocols. Nines kept up a litany of quiet words even though Gavin wasn’t really responding. Each little shift or shiver made him moan, his skin was clammy and cold to touch, shock keeping the worst of the pain at bay.

Finally, the emergency services arrived, made the three of them stand back and watch helplessly as they worked, a few times Gavin cried out and Hank had to turn away, unable to cope with watching someone he considered a friend be in such a situation. Only Connor’s hand on his back kept him in place. Finally, Gavin was on a stretcher, cushions kept him stabled and secure, the EMTs hefted him up and walked up the hill with the other three in tow. They watched the ambulance doors close and it drove off, blue lights flashing in the setting sun.

“Fuck!” Hank kicked at the ground. He looked at Nines and Connor, their LEDs still red even though Gavin was in good hands now. “What? What do you know that’s got you so worried?”

“We’re no medical androids,” Connor tried to evade the question but Nines cut in.

“There’s a 97% chance Gavin will lose the arm, 84% chance of further complications in hospital and only a 45% chance of survival.”

“Fuck!” Hank repeated again.

The paperwork for the incident was an absolute nightmare. Fowler was livid even though, logically, he knew that they did everything by the books. A witness reported seeing something unusual, a visual check carried out found nothing, as it was a single witness who was also involved in a traumatic incident who reported it, no further actions were necessary. It still didn’t ease the guilt that lingered. He’d been the one to send Gavin home early. Despite a life of learning to ignore the what if’s of alternate outcomes, it was difficult not to get lost in the cycle of if only’s that seemed so fond of cropping up.

Everyone at the precinct was more subdued. One of their own was down, nobody knew what was going on. There was no news on Gavin, only family were allowed to visit in the intensive care unit, all they knew was that he’d pulled through the first bout of surgery. Hank looked ready to start drinking again, Connor hurried after him, LED stuck on red as he flitted between him and Nines who was more robotic than ever before.

At long last, word came that Nines could visit Gavin as his partner. Both Hank and Connor accompanied him to the hospital after work for evening visiting hours. They lingered in the waiting area while Nines was quietly ushered onto the ward which was eerily silent save for the steady beeps of machines.

Next to Hank, Connor gasped and  his eyes squeezed shut, lips tipping down.

“Con?”

“It’s Nines,” Connor tried to wave him off but Hank persisted, demanding information. “He sent me information and pictures but I wasn’t prepared for his grief and anxiety to filter through with it.”

Hank grabbed his shoulders and leaned down to be level with Connor as he pleaded to be told more.

“He’s on a ventilator. His right arm’s gone, there’s worries about his legs too with frostbite and further complications. Chances of survival are at 38%,” Connor’s voice was soft and strained as he relayed the information, his HUD filled with Gavin’s charts and images of him swathed in bandages. The bruises around his eyes were dark and deep, Connor didn’t dare mention worries about the knock-on effects of concussion. Hank tipped his face up to the ceiling, eyes closed. He hated hospitals, ever since the car crash they’d made him uneasy. The helplessness, the waiting and futile hoping, it was all too much. It was impossible to say whether sat by the bedside was worse than being stuck in the waiting room.

Eventually, Nines found them again. His face betrayed nothing, his LED was still as red as before, both his and Connor’s had been stuck like that since the accident. Hank hated how powerless he was to help them.


	3. Chapter 3

Trips to the hospital became part of everyday life. Gavin was kept in an induced coma and on a ventilator but as he stabilised, more people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t unusual for Connor or Hank to be there already when Nines visited. Sometimes Tina dropped by, as well as Chris and on one occasion, Fowler too. Most people didn’t stay long, maybe ten minutes at most because there was nothing to do. Wires and tubes from various machines made it difficult for more than one person to be next to the bed. A single chair had been set up and it was usually Nines who sat in it. He brought books along and read them aloud in a quiet, soft voice even though Gavin probably couldn’t hear them.

On the bed, Gavin looked fragile, even as the bruises slowly faded; he was still pale and vulnerable. Despite the hospital’s best efforts, Gavin’s condition began to deteriorate. Whispers of words like ‘pneumonia’ and ‘sepsis’ could be heard and new antibiotics were added to Gavin’s chart. His breathing rattled in his chest as the ventilator pushed air into his lungs. Nines was at work when the message came through. They were taking Gavin back into surgery. He was given the rest of the day off, allowed to rush to the hospital where he waited alone until a nurse could bring him news.

Shortly after, Connor turned up, grabbed Nines’ hand in his, let an interface speak for him better than any words could.

“We’ll find a way forward,” he thought and his thirium pump clenched at Nines’ reply.

“Will he want to find a way forward too?”

The antibiotics had caught the pneumonia, halted it before it could wreak true havoc and disaster. However, the sepsis had been worse. It was impossible to tell where exactly where it had stemmed from but the result was that Gavin had lost both legs from above the knee.

Back on the ward, he looked tired despite having been under for several weeks. The hope was that given another week or so, he’d be weaned off the ventilator and brought round. Nines couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be there or not for that. To see the confusion, the pain and agony flash over Gavin’s face. It would have been so much easier to let the nurses deal with that. In the end, Nines couldn’t leave him there with strangers to break the news to him.

The day Gavin was expected to finally wake, he had a day off and sat by the bed, hands carefully cupping Gavin’s. Watching him struggle into wakefulness was difficult. Gavin squirmed, cried out and if Nines hadn’t had a grip of his hand, would have no doubt ripped the IV out in his struggle. No amount of reassuring murmurs would calm him, tears slipped down his cheeks along with whimpers of things hurting. Doctors flitted by and a nurse stood on the other side of the bed, just as helpless as Nines.

At long last Gavin quietened, his eyes blinked blearily at Nines, lips pulled down into an unhappy curve.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Nines almost got up and walked out then. He couldn’t be the one to tell Gavin what had happened. The protocols for such things weren’t in his programming, he floundered, wanted to scream, wanted to run and never come back. Instead, he tightened his hand on Gavin’s and tried to offer him a small smile.

“There’s been an accident,” his voice was steady, his coding not allowing for even a single waver. “You’re at the hospital.”

Thankfully the nurse had summoned a doctor then. Nines should have left, saved himself the heartbreak of watching Gavin be assessed for his mental clarity before being talked through the extent of his injuries, the loss of three limbs and the prognosis for getting out of the hospital. All in all, Gavin took it pretty well. His mouth was pressed into a hard line as he listened and nodded. Only later did Nines realise that while Gavin had been listening, he’d adopted his police detective persona. Took in the difficult to digest information much like he did on harrowing cases but kept it removed from himself. He treated it like a case to collect information on and file it away without too much thought. It did the trick though, he muddled through further tests and three days later he was transferred out of the ICU and onto a regular ward.

Visiting hours were more strict on the ward, it was difficult to juggle it with work but each day at least one person tried to see Gavin. Hank was sat in the visitors’ chair; talking about some game they’d both watched the other night when Tina stuck her head around the curtains.

“Knock knock!” Her smile was wide and forced.

“Tina,” Gavin sounded genuinely pleased to see her.

“I know you were talking about losing a bit of weight, G-man, but isn’t this a little extreme even for you?” she teased as she approached the bed.

Gavin’s smile was wide and all teeth as he laughed at the joke even as the corners of his mouth stretched wide, the grin turned into a grimace and his eyes went from crinkled with laughter to wide horror. Tina was leaning down to pull him into a hug even as his hand pressed against his mouth to hold back the “oh fuck” and the sobs which spilled from him uncontrolled.

“It’s okay Gav, it’s okay,” Tina muttered and let him cling to her, arm tight around her back as fingers clutched at her shoulder.

Quietly, Hank got up and left, giving them the illusion of privacy and hiding his own tears. He’d been dreading that moment, when the front Gavin put up of everything being fine, of taking things in stride, crumbled into dust. The emotional fallout, the grief at the loss of life as he knew it was expected, it was only a matter of time before the wall Gavin had dammed everything up behind broke.

It was Connor who found him in the corridor, sniffling and pulled Hank in for a hug. Even though it was unspoken, they all knew Gavin wasn’t returning to the precinct.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the eagle-eyed readers may have spotted a bit of a jump in final chapter numbers from 5 to 12. I have nothing to say for myself apart from apparently I had more words in me for this fic than anticipated. Just working on the final 2 chapters now. No more sudden jumps, I promise.

The hospital was eager to get Gavin home as soon as possible. Once they were certain he was on the mend, were confident that his lungs had cleared up and he knew what gentle exercises he needed to do to slowly work his way back to full strength, he was discharged. Insurance only covered so much and Gavin was armed with a novel’s worth of leaflets, care instructions, medication suggestions and local support groups.

Nines was there to help him get back home, Hank and Connor waited in the car while he went in. He was shown how to help lift Gavin, what to look out for when settling him in the wheelchair and how it was easiest to navigate obstacles. All through it, Gavin looked pale and drawn. Nines knew he’d had an intense physiotherapy session for that morning with a focus on building dexterity in his left hand. All his life, Gavin had been right handed and now he had to learn how to do everything from dressing to feeding himself with his non-dominant hand.

Leaving the ward, Nines was hard pressed not to chastise Gavin for slumping down in his seat. It was bad not only for his circulation but also his back. Yet he held his tongue, no doubt Gavin was a boiling jumble of emotions, he was finally going home but he was also facing the world and having to realise that the consequences of the accident were permanent. Gone was the confident man who willingly butted heads with the world if he didn’t agree, in its place sat someone who didn’t look up, didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he was pushed through the doors of the hospital and towards those he used to call friends.

Silently, Nines helped transfer Gavin to the backseat, folded up the wheelchair and put it in the boot before slipping into the back seat.

“All good?” Hank asked. At Nines’ nod, they pulled away and began the trip to Gavin’s flat. It was a silent journey, one that nobody seemed intent to break. There was nothing to say that hadn’t already been said while sat next to Gavin’s hospital bed and fighting to make things seem like everything was going to be fine.

The block of flats loomed over them as they pulled up, Nines eased Gavin into his chair and the four of them made their silent way inside. Problems started on the ground as they stared at the small elevator that fit maybe one person and a bag but definitely not a wheelchair.

“This is awkward,” Gavin grumbled and he tried to laugh it off. Nobody mentioned how he refused to meet anybody’s eyes as he looked around.

“Connor, if you could handle the chair,” Nines ordered and walked to Gavin’s side. “I think carrying you up the stairs is going to be the only way.”

“I know,” the sigh which left Gavin’s lips wasn’t a pleased one. He let Nines undo the clips holding him in and stifled the grunt as he was lifted.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Nines whispered in his ear as they began to take the stairs.

“Just get it over and done with as quickly as possible.”

Once inside, Nines deposited Gavin on the sofa and he let out a small groan, trying to adjust to keep pressure off his healing wounds. He looked exhausted and tired, not just physically but emotionally. With a huff he gave up trying to remain upright and let himself flop onto his left side, half curled up on the sofa.

“Thanks for getting me home,” he mumbled, eyes shut. From one second to the next, he was asleep and the other three looked round the place.

“When’s the occupational therapist coming over?” Hank asked Nines.

“Late next week.”

It wasn’t enough though. Looking round the place, it was easy to identify problems already. There wasn’t an easy and clear path to move around in a wheelchair. Not that Gavin could wheel himself around, he was still waiting for a motorised chair to be cleared by the insurance company. But other things that hadn’t even occurred to them stared them in the face. The kitchen’s counters were too high, cupboards on the wall, well out of reach so something as simple as getting a glass of water was nigh on impossible. Walking back into the living room, more problems occurred to them. The bathroom was small, there was no way they’d be able to get a wheelchair in there. The shower’s dials were up high and out of reach though they could put a plastic chair in to help. But that still didn’t resolve the issue of Gavin getting himself to the bathroom and into the shower.

“I never realised just how much we take for granted,” Hank rumbled and glanced over at Gavin sleeping on the couch.

“There’ll be carers coming in three times a day. I’ll look into options in the meantime.”

Even Nines sounded tired. They all knew that no carer was going to help juggle getting Gavin down four flights of stairs to get him out. For now, Gavin was as good as a prisoner in his own home. At least he was protected from the nosy neighbours for now, but it was only a matter of time before rumours were going to spread.

“Thank you for helping get him home, I think I can take it from here.”

Connor and Hank shuffled out of the flat with a final look over their shoulders at Gavin. Words were useless in that moment but there was no action they could take to solve the situation either.

Quietly, Nines closed the door behind them and leaned his forehead against it as he took a fortifying breath. There was so much to do, even as an android he wasn’t sure he could get through it all.

“Nines?” Gavin’s voice drew him back into the present and he turned with a forced smile. “I’m sorry.”

Now that everyone was gone and Gavin was back in his home, all the walls that he’d built up crumbled down. Gone was the careful indifference, the shyness. In its place were wide, terror filled eyes and someone lost, adrift without purpose.

“You know,” he continued, “you can leave too. I’d get it.” Gavin’s voice caught on the words but he forced them out even as a sob threatened to rip from his throat. “I wouldn’t blame you if you walked out the door and never came back. I’ve got nothing left to give you.”

In two easy strides, Nines was crouched next to the sofa, his hand grasping Gavin’s in a desperate grip.

“Never say that again, please.” If androids could cry, his cheeks would have been tear stained. Rather than try and convince Gavin with words, he brought his hand to his lips, kissed each knuckle and rested his forehead against their joint hands.

“You’ll get bored and frustrated eventually,” Gavin’s words were barely a whisper, “and I promise to let you go without a word when the time comes.”


	5. Chapter 5

As promised, carers came and went three times a day. Each morning, Nines woke next to Gavin, helped him slip into a compression garment and set him up on the sofa before going to work. By the time he got back, Gavin had been showered, given the lunch he’d left in the fridge along with a bottle of homemade lemonade. In the evenings, Nines carried Gavin down the stairs along with his wheelchair and they went for a walk in the area.

They’d been back for check-up appointments, for assessments and even tried one of the hospital run support groups. After that, Gavin hadn’t said a word except asking to go straight to bed. They never went back after that. The appointments didn’t go much better, the doctors were reluctant to even entertain the idea of a prosthesis for at least 6 more months even when Gavin railed against their decision.

At work things continued as usual. Gavin’s empty desk was left untouched, nobody dared approach it, let alone clear it out. The DPD wasn’t recruiting for a new detective just yet, in a way, they were all in a mourning period. It took three weeks for Fowler to approach the desk with a box and begin to put all the small knickknacks Gavin had acquired in there. Nobody mentioned how he looked solemn, lips pressed into a thin line as he lifted the picture frame from the desk and laid it in the box with more care than necessary. Once done, Hank walked past him and squeezed his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he murmured and Fowler only nodded before returning to his office. If his walls were clouded over for the next hour despite a lack of confidential meetings, his subordinates allowed him the moment of privacy. Even when he emerged again, eyes red and puffy, everybody carried on as usual.

Meanwhile, the motorised wheelchair for Gavin had been approved and delivered. There was no point in taking it upstairs when there was no room for it, plus ferrying it up and down the stairs would have been a logistical nightmare. Instead, they left it locked up in the corner of the lobby. Neighbours whispered, pointed and stared but nobody approached Gavin. The braver ones sent him a pitying smile and a nod but otherwise crossed the street if necessary to avoid him. At least Nines could walk next to him on their evening outings rather than loom over him from behind.

“You effects have been gathered up, would you like me to bring them home? Or would you rather get them yourself?” Nines offered. He was acutely aware that since coming home, Gavin had resolutely refused to leave the house for anything other than absolute essentials. They’d been working their way up to getting Gavin to go with him to the local corner shop and even got as far as the door before Gavin’s eyes went wide and he turned away from it.

“I’ll get them myself.” It was huffed out with stubborn pride and Nines desperately hoped Gavin wouldn’t get overwhelmed by it again.

It was tough going, most nights Nines rarely entered full stasis. He could keep his maintenance schedule ticking over and topped up his charge at the station. During the night, he lay next to Gavin, monitored his restless sleep. At first, Nines hadn’t noticed it. Gavin was on his back, brows pulled a little low as he slept, breath coming in soft puffs of warm air. It seemed peaceful were it not for the soft shivers that made Gavin tremble almost imperceptibly. The cover was off his shoulder so Nines had pulled it up, tucked him in and checked his temperature. Everything seemed to be in the normal range yet Gavin still shivered. Small whines seemed to be caught in his throat too and Nines encouraged him to curl against his body, upped his own temperature. He made a mental note to look into temperature regulation issues following amputation. He could feel Gavin’s muscles twitch against his chassis, aborted, small moves as though something was holding Gavin down from thrashing around. It was only the tickle of eyelashes against his throat that gave him any indication that Gavin’s eyes had opened and yet he still didn’t move. Carefully, Nines pulled away and looked down at him.

“Gavin?”

There was no response. Gavin’s eyes were wide, mouth set in a thin line, a muscle in his jaw twitched.

“Gavin?” Nines tried again and brought a hand up to brush against his cheek. It was as though a spell had been broken. Gavin took a huge, heaving breath and rolled away from Nines, onto his other side and curled up. His hand was fisted in his hair and harsh gasps broke the silence. Tentatively, Nines reached for him.

“Don’t touch me,” Gavin panted and he forced himself to push up along the bed until he was perched precariously on the edge, back still towards Nines. “Just get out. Go.”

Nines didn’t. He shuffled a little closer but waited until Gavin’s ragged breathing settled and he was given a small nod before sitting up behind him, pulling his back to his chest and letting their fingers intertwine.

“Want to talk about it?”

Gavin shook his head. It was like that most nights, had been for a while, Nines realised. Night terrors kept Gavin pinned to the bed, unable to move as his mind conjured up who knew what. He never talked about it, barely even admitted to them. So Nines stopped going into full stasis, stayed alert to Gavin’s sleeping patterns and changes in breathing. As soon as he detected another nightmare, he pulled Gavin close, rubbed his back and wished there was something more he could do. Even if it was to hold Gavin while he cried. Except, Gavin never cried, never asked for help, never let anyone in on his suffering. So Nines stayed on the peripheral and tried to keep him together when everything else seemed to fall apart.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday, Wednesday and Fridays will be the days this updates. Thank you to all of you lovely people leaving comments, dropping me messages on DMs and generally screaming about this. You are all inspiring and wonderful. And thank you to the silent readers too! Without you all, this story wouldn't be half as much fun to write.

Going in to the precinct to pick up the box that had been Gavin’s desk was unimaginably hard. Nines walked beside Gavin as he guided his motorised wheelchair through the wide doors into the bullpen. He was swaddled in blankets but there was no hiding the fact that he was missing three limbs. Most people did their level best not to openly stare but the mutters and a few pity filled glances was all it took to make them feel like a circus show. Gavin kept his head up high, eyes on Fowler who came out of his office to greet them. They made their way into the meeting room where the box was already set aside on the stand.

“Gavin, I’m so sorry,” Fowler’s voice was steady but weak, eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Gavin gave half a shrug and tried to twist his lips into a smile. “It’s not like you paid the driver to plough into the back of the other lorry to try and play sandwich filling with me. Did you?”

The joke fell flat as Fowler’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“I believe it was a joke,” Nines felt the need to interrupt.

“I know, I know,” the way Fowler tutted betrayed his insecurities. “I’m just not sure I can joke about it yet. If ever.”

“It is what it is.” There was a flatness to Gavin that Nines had seen creep in over the last few weeks. As though he’d shut down some part of himself, like a deviant android turning back into a machine. He plodded on with things, did his exercises, let Nines and his carers pull him this way and that way without complaint. But he stopped smiling too. Lost a spark that had ignited Nines’ own deviancy so long ago.

“Gavin,” Fowler took a deep breath, obviously having rehearsed the speech before, “I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. The department isn’t the same without you, we miss you. And we-”

“Shut up,” Gavin snapped. “I don’t need your pity, I don’t need your apologies. I just want my stuff back.”

At least there was a hint of who Gavin used to be still lingering in the fiery temper. Fowler seemed to understand too, he picked up the box and tried to pass it to Gavin, forgetting he couldn’t keep it steady on his lap with one hand while the other drove his chair.

“Let me,” Nines grabbed the box.

“I wish there was something more we could do,” Fowler’s voice was soft as they turned. “We would love to have you back in some capacity if you ever think you’d want to return.”

The only good thing about having a wheelchair was that Gavin couldn’t stumble or pause mid-step at the words. He couldn’t turn around and say that he’d love to be back too but growing a new arm and two legs was a little difficult, even with the modern advancements in medicine.

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” he threw over his shoulder.

They were almost out of the precinct, so close to getting away from the bolder, more curious stares when Gavin’s name was called from the lobby.

“Fucking hell Gavin!”

“Elijah,” Gavin sighed and turned his chair to face the newcomer.

“They wouldn’t tell me anything! Not how to get in touch, wouldn’t pass on a message or anything. Fowler, the bastard, refused to help in any way despite, you know, knowing.” The last few words were hissed between clenched teeth and Elijah cast a suspicious look around while Chloe laid a hand on his elbow.

“Nines, please pass Chloe our address and my phone number.” Gavin didn’t even bother looking over at Nines, trusting him to simply do as asked. “I’ll catch you up tomorrow, after 10.”

Not saying anything more, Gavin steered around Elijah and headed for the door with as much stoic dignity as he could muster. Nines struggled to catch up with him.

Back home, the box was settled on the dining room table, Gavin didn’t even bother looking at what was in there. No doubt a card signed by everyone had been slipped in amongst everything. At least Fowler remembered how much Gavin had hated public declarations of any kind. However, even in the privacy of his own home, Gavin didn’t want to be confronted with such a card. He wasn’t certain what anyone could have written in there that he could possibly want to read. Generic get well soon messages sounded hollow while the we miss you and best of luck for the future ones would cut too deep for him to be able to cope with in that moment.

“I want to go to bed,” he barked at Nines.

“It’s not even lunchtime yet,” came the answer.

“I don’t care! Either you help me get there or I’m going to drag myself across the floor.” The threat worked and Nines obediently carried him to their shared bed. What Gavin didn’t expect was for him to slip under the covers alongside him.

The arm across his chest felt suffocating but Gavin still clutched at it with his hand, too afraid that if he let Nines go, he’d disappear and leave Gavin with even less than he had. A kiss to his cheek became another and another. Dry lips pressed against his and a hand drifted lower, fingers brushed over his stomach and gently traced over the waistband of his trousers.

“What are you doing?” Gavin gritted out.

“Trying to initiate intimacy. In the past, when you had been overwhelmed or feeling low, sex seemed to help.”

A bitter, disbelieving laugh ripped itself from Gavin’s throat as he pushed Nines’ hand away with as much force as he could muster.

“You really think I could get it up?” There was a hysterical edge to his voice. “Look at me. I’m a freak. I haven’t even thought about getting off since the accident. If I can’t get aroused, how the hell can I expect you to look at me and get turned on?”

Nines’ hand returned and rested lightly on his chest as he pressed a feather light kiss to his cheek.

“I know we aren’t married,” he began softly, “but I will be alongside you for as long as you’ll have me. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I love you. Your body does not define you.”

“Fuck off,” Gavin shoved him again and turned away, ignoring the ache from the pressure at the end of his right arm.

He curled up, tried to will away the burning of tears which trickled over the bridge of his nose and dripped onto the pillow. As silently as he could, he cried while Nines lay helplessly next to him, uncertain whether his touch, or even his presence was making things worse.


	7. Chapter 7

Going to work was almost a relief, Nines could stop worrying about Gavin there. He didn’t go as far as pretending that Gavin was simply off for the day and everything was just fine, but being away did help put things into perspective. An android couldn’t get tired, someone of Nines’ calibre didn’t run out of battery, didn’t lose operational functionality over something as simple as emotional stress. Yet each day, he felt worn down, the prospect of heading home, only to face Gavin and his sullen company was draining. Still, he went home, hoped that maybe over time things would get a little easier. They were still waiting finding a home suitable for Gavin that was within a commutable distance of the precinct for Nines. He’d offered to transfer, to change jobs but it hadn’t truly been an option. His friends were at the DPD, he was good at his job and he enjoyed it. It didn’t make sense to change. So he headed back home each evening with a small hope that it would be better than the previous day.

“You were quiet this afternoon,” he greeted Gavin who was bundled up under a pile of blankets on the sofa.

“Carer forgot to put my phone charger nearby.” Nines’ eyes slipped shut and he held back a sigh. If the carers were androids, they were uncaring and unfeeling. But if they were human, they forgot things and never lived up to Gavin’s standards.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave another note with a check-list for them.”

“That’s not it,” Gavin waved his arm in annoyance. “Just. Look,” he sighed. “Elijah came by this morning. I’m going to spend a few days with him. Get out of your hair for a bit. He’ll pick me up tomorrow.”

Sitting Gavin on the bed, Nines let himself be directed through packing a bag. Clothes, phone charger, tablet, toothbrush and toiletries all went in the rucksack under Gavin’s careful supervision. Each item made Nines’ thirium pump clench a little, feeling like there was more to this than Gavin simply wanting to spend time with his estranged brother. The timing was too convenient but there was no scenario Nines could preconstruct that helped provide backup to his uneasiness.

They’d talked about Elijah. How he and Gavin had drifted apart, agreed that it was for the best for both their careers if they stayed out of each other’s way. Gavin refused to acknowledge Elijah on any of his forms as a relative or named contact while Elijah did his best to cover up the fact his father had had a mistress who bore him a son. They had stayed in touch only as far as sending the obligatory Christmas card each year but nothing more. Though they both had expressed remorse at going to such extremes in separating, especially as Gavin could easily have died and Elijah would have been none the wiser. So Gavin had framed it as them reconnecting, seeing if there was something left to salvage of a childhood bond. It didn’t ring true to Nines, but he let it go for the time being.

The next day, he pecked Gavin on the forehead as he headed out, making sure everything was in place for him. In the evening, when he returned home, Gavin’s chair was missing from lobby and Nines took the elevator up to an empty flat where he looked around helplessly. Nines had no idea what to do with himself without Gavin there. Before the accident that hadn’t been a problem, he’d read, go out with Connor and Chris, had active interests and hobbies. But since Gavin had come home from the hospital, even before then, while he was recovering as an inpatient, Nines’ world had boiled down to Gavin and his needs. Taking him downstairs and getting out for some fresh air. Cooking meals that he could leave in the fridge for lunch the following day, putting together grocery orders and trying to find things that might bring Gavin a small amount of pleasure. It had all been about Gavin. Without him, Nines was at a loss. So he did the only thing he could think of doing and messaged Connor.

Half an hour later there was a knock on the door and Nines let both Connor and Hank in. They been there before, visited Gavin a couple of times but they eyed the place with renewed interest. There was evidence of lives interrupted, put on indefinite hold until they could find a new equilibrium.

“I’ve managed to at least put all his shoes in a bag,” Nines tried to smile, “but neither of us have the heart to get rid of them just yet.”

“There’s no rush, is there?” Hank replied as he sat on the sofa, in Gavin’s usual spot. “How are you holding up?”

Nines tried to play it off, tried to put on a brave face but something about the soft understanding in Hank’s voice broke him. He dropped his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I miss him so much,” he whispered, “but I’m so glad he’s gone.”

The vortex of emotions that had been threatening to swallow him all day finally seized him. He loved Gavin, that’s what he kept telling himself. And yet, he was still so grateful for a few days to himself. No demands, no worries, nothing.

“That’s perfectly normal,” Hank’s words were nothing more than a rumble. “It’s okay to hate things as they are. To even resent Gavin.”

“But I love him!” Nines tried to protest, his LED a fierce red.

“I know,” the reassurance was still soft, “and I loved Cole. But I still hated him too.”

That brought Nines up short. Connor was next to Hank, a hand on his thigh and giving him a gentle, encouraging look. It wasn’t common knowledge what Hank told him. The truth was that Cole hadn’t died at the scene of the accident, that would have almost been easier. He spent two months at the hospital in a coma, his body slowly healing but he never woke up. After a barrage of tests, it was deemed that the kindest thing to do was to turn off the life support machines and let him slip away. By then, Hank had bought his house, Cole’s mother was refusing to have anything to do with them. So Cole had been transported to Hank’s house, set up in the bedroom while Hank himself slept on the couch. It took Cole just over a week to take his last breath. Most of that time, Hank had spent by his bedside, holding his small hand and talking to him, telling Cole his favourite stories over and over again until his voice was hoarse.

“So that’s why his registered address was my house. Even if it never had a bedroom for him,” Hank shrugged, eyes watery with unshed tears. “That’s why I say it’s okay to hate, not Gavin, but everything else about the situation.”

Slowly, Nines nodded. He understood what Hank was saying, but he couldn’t bring himself to say those words. He loved Gavin, even if things were difficult at that moment. Even if Nines both relished and dreaded having to go home to an empty flat for the next couple of days. Gavin would be back and they could work on finding their balance once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Trips to Elijah’s become a semi-regular thing. Nines doesn’t feel quite as bereft in those moments of solitude, the first time had definitely been the worst. Though Gavin recently has returned more grouchy and tired. He was irritable, growled at Nines when he tried to help with things and batted his hands away when compression bandages had to be taken off or applied.

“I can do it myself,” Gavin snapped. “I’m a cripple not an idiot.”

The sniping continued. Nines had lost track of the number of times Gavin had ranted about how stupid his regime was. Needing to be careful not to let too much steam or water soften up the scars but then having to apply moisturiser in the evening and massage it in so the scars stayed as supple as possible. Those were things Nines used to help with. But after the last trip to Elijah’s, Gavin had denied him even that little moment of closeness. Truth be told, Nines missed it. It was one of the rare moments he was allowed to touch Gavin, his hands weren’t shied away from. Now, he wasn’t even allowed that.

At least Gavin’s sour disposition hadn’t managed to put Hank and Connor off from visiting. Tina and Chris were also regulars to pop by, offering their support to Nines as much as to Gavin who stubbornly refused it all. Nines was accompanied by Hank and Connor on his way home. In theory, Gavin was meant to have got home just before lunch from Elijah’s but he had barely sent Nines a text to let him know he was home. Any further request for communication went ignored and Nines sighed internally. It was going to be another silent, difficult evening then. He’d given the other two a heads up but they still insisted on visiting, seeing Gavin and keeping Nines company.

They reached the door and Nines pulled his keys out, steeling himself. The door opened and Nines froze for a moment. Gavin wasn’t in his usual spot on the sofa, the TV was off and the throws had been left discarded on the ground. It wasn’t how Nines had left the room in the morning. LED red he stepped into the flat cautiously, eyes scouring the room. He zeroed in on a trail of blood that stared off spotty on the ground but grew into a steady trail as it rounded the sofa.

“What the fuck?” Hank had spotted the blood too, hand on his service gun as they stepped to follow the trail.

They didn’t have far to go, in the small hallway, Gavin was half propped up against a wall, the blood seeping from a loose gauze around his right thigh. The red mingled with some other fluid on the ground.

“Gavin!” Nines called out and his worry was met with a flat, hopeless stare. Tears had dried on Gavin’s cheeks but his eyes were puffy, lips bitten raw. “What happened?”

“Needed a piss,” Gavin’s voice was hoarse, he turned his face away from Nines and the other two crowding into the hallway. The stench of urine made Hank take an involuntary step back.

Questions were clamouring from all three of them at that point and Gavin resolutely refused to look at them.

“Why didn’t you call?”

“Why didn’t the carer help before they left?”

“How did you think you could do it by yourself?”

They just kept piling on top of each other, Gavin’s face was getting redder and redder with each moment, humiliation and defeat ground him down until he exploded.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up the lot of you!”

Silence stretched and Gavin gripped his hair tight as he doubled over, trying to muffle a sob.

“Okay,” Nines said softly, “okay.”

“The carer was some kid in a rush, assumed I was going to be okay until this evening.” The sobs were making it difficult to understand what Gavin was saying. “It was warm so he left me a jug of water and like a fool I drank it all.”

“You could have called,” Nines reminded him and Gavin’s eyes stared past him, locked onto a dent in the wall. On the floor below was the shattered remains of his phone.

“I got so angry.”

“I’m going to take you to the bathroom and help tidy up,” Nines took control of the situation. “Hank, if you could look in the fridge, there should be the enough for a stir fry.”

Not waiting for an acknowledgement, Nines reached for Gavin only to have him seize up and shy away from his touch.

“Your clothes!” he protested and Nines had to work hard not to roll his eyes.

“Will go in the wash along with yours. Now come along.”

Arms wrapped around Gavin, pulled him close and Nines valiantly ignored the way things dripped from sodden clothes. They made it to the bathroom in silence and Nines sat Gavin on the closed toilet seat. A message pinged in Nines’ HUD, informing him that Connor was cleaning up the mess as best he could.

“Alright, come on then,” Nines reached for Gavin, the first thing he needed to sort was the bloody gauze that he seemed determined to keep on. As soon as Nines’ fingers brushed against it, Gavin’s hand grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t.” There was a note of pleading in his tone, eyes wide with fear.

“We need to see the damage. Ever something like a carpet burn needs to be treated. We can’t let it get infected.” Nines tried to placate him, a hand stroking over Gavin’s while the other started easing the gauze away. Obviously, Gavin was about to protest again but it was too late. The gauze and padding fell away and Nines’ LED turned a solid red.

A moment later the bathroom door was being wrenched open by a panicked Connor, summoned by the unintentional alarm Nines had broadcast. Hank was only a step behind and his eyes widened with horror.

“What the fuck have you done, Reed?” he asked.

Uncomfortable with all the attention, Gavin tried to pull back the gauze to cover the end of his leg where wires emerged from between ruptured stitches of reopened scars. Swallowing thickly, he stubbornly tugged the gauze back from where it slipped again.

“Connor, Hank,” Nines’ eyes never left Gavin as he spoke. “Please could you leave us.”

The door shut with a quiet ‘snick’ that echoed in the bathroom. Neither Nines nor Gavin moved, knowing that their manufactured peace would shatter with one wrong move. Eyes scanning the surgical wounds, Nines could see where electrical components were sewn into flesh, a modern cyborg Frankenstein. He suppressed the very human shudder that tried to run through him and instead looked up at Gavin’s face.

“We need to clean this up.”

Gavin nodded, face still turned away from Nines. He let himself be manoeuvred around, stripped and quietly wiped down. His hand never once unfurled from the clenched fist.

Silently, Nines worked at cleaning Gavin up. He kept a connection open with Connor, neither saying much but it was a way of keeping each other appraised. Gavin was going to be okay once bandaged up again. They were going to have to have a long talk. Meanwhile, Connor was cleaning up the last of the stains, disinfecting the hallway and Hank was on the phone, talking to the care agency.

_He’s got half a mind to call Kamski._

Connor sent an image of Hank, standing by the dent in the wall, back rigid with a phone to his ear.

_I think I wish for that dubious honour myself. No ethics committee would have cleared him to experiment like this. And on his own brother at that._

Outwardly, Nines didn’t look any different. Stoic, mouth pressed into its usual thin line, motions practiced and smooth as he hefted Gavin up to help him into clothes. Efficient as ever, he pulled the stowed box of bandages, gauzes and padding from the cupboard under the sink, eyes not leaving his task.

“I’m not going to apologise,” Gavin gritted out suddenly.

“I know.” Nines’ reply was almost cold. He inspected the wound for dirt, helped disinfect the edges and ignored the way Gavin stiffened in discomfort when he cleaned the metal that protruded from the wound.

“Is it just this leg? Or do I need to check the other stumps as well?”

It was the first time Nines had called what was left of Gavin’s limbs that. Technically, it was the correct term but until that point he’d always been so careful to brush over the harsh facts. He didn’t miss Gavin’s jerk of surprise or the hike in his heartrate. Suppressing a sigh, Nines began to unwind the bandage, noting that the tip had been soiled so would have needed replacing anyway. The precise cuts didn’t look quite so bad, no inflammation or damage at least, though there was the stray drop of blood on the padding.

Steadily, Nines worked through all the wounds. At least Gavin’s arm seemed the least damaged but his back still needed a salve for the carpet burn that decorated his spine and lower back. Taking a step back, Nines peered down at him, the light sheen of sweat that clung to his skin.

“Does it hurt?”

Gavin took a quick glance at him before his eyes danced away, back onto the floor. He nodded once.

“Wait here,” Nines told him out of habit. It wasn’t like Gavin could go anywhere without him.

Out of the bathroom, Nines waited for the door to close before letting his shoulders drop. He stepped around Connor who was dabbing up the last of the water and walked into the kitchen. On the table was a new paper bag that he’d missed earlier. A scan revealed it was full of painkiller, the kind administered after surgery for a few days. The legality of Kamski having access to it and distributing it sent errors skittering across his vision, the imperative need to enforce the law was strong. But then he thought of Gavin, the desperation that must have engulfed him along with the frustration. They needed to talk and do it soon, in that moment though, Gavin needed to be pain free and reassured. Pills and water in hand, Nines returned to the bathroom and brushed off Hank’s concerned look.

“He promised he could get me back to work,” Gavin’s voice was thin and shaky, there were tears in his eyes.

Nines pressed the pills into his hand and waited patiently for Gavin to pop them in his mouth before handing over the water. It gave him time to think and reconsider. Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to him that leaving Gavin alone in the bathroom, barely talking to him and having a generally displeased demeanour would be seen as punishment. Guilt raced through his circuits.

“We’ll need to talk about it,” Nines managed to find his voice at long last, “but first, we need to make sure you’re going to be okay.”

He ran a hand softly through Gavin’s hair, took the now empty glass from his hand and placed it on the side. It could wait there a bit long, Gavin couldn’t. With as much tenderness as he could muster, he scooped Gavin up, took him past the couch and straight to bed. The pills he’d taken would take a little while to kick in and no doubt they’d make him drowsy. Nines settled on the bed next to him, pulled him close and asked Connor to wait for him with Hank in the kitchen. Sure enough, not half an hour later Gavin was out like a light.

Delicately, Nines extracted himself from the bed and sat heavily down at the kitchen table.

“Kamski promised to get him back to work. So I assume he’s got android prosthetics to test.”

“You can’t let him be an eccentric millionaire’s guinea pig!” Hank railed against the idea.

“As much as I want to protect him, to help him, it’s not my choice to make,” Nines looked between Hank and Connor. “If this is what he wants, I’ll support him. No, I don’t agree with it but I’m not sure there are any happy alternatives.”

“He can’t-”

“He’s resourceful,” Connor cut Hank off with a sad frown. “If he set his mind to it, you know he’d succeed. Gavin not the kind to leave things up to fate with Russian Roulette.”

The dig wasn’t necessary but it drove the point home. Nodding in understanding, Hank looked at the other two.

“Then we make sure this isn’t just a pipedream, get me Kamski’s number.”


	9. Chapter 9

Nines wasn’t there for Hank’s chat with Kamski as he went back to check on Gavin and had ended up sitting next to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest with sorrow. Though Connor did fill him in later on what he had missed, a story filled with a mild sense of awe and newfound respect. There was very little swearing, no threats either. The best description Connor could convey was a very very anxious and simmering rage filled bear. It was entertainingly apt.

The conversation with Kamski did help fill in a few blanks though. There had been a reluctance from Fowler to fill the empty spot Gavin had left on the team. Excuses were piled high, not quite flimsy yet but there was a definite avoidance. It turned out that Kamski had paid for Gavin’s job to be kept open for him, he was so certain of his ability to get Gavin, quite literally, back on his feet. It also explained why Gavin’s paperwork from the DPD was so slow to come through. HR had been holding back on the forms so it would be easier for Gavin to return. On the whole, it sounded like Kamski had everything planned out and put into place.

Not that Hank, Nines and Connor didn’t kick up a fuss. Gavin seemed far too accepting of letting Kamski all but experiment on him. But the other three hounded Kamski until they were certain that only the best surgical team were hired. Truth be told, they already were but Nines liked to do his research with Connor backing up everything he found. On the whole, Kamski was probably humouring them, this was just as important to him after all, the first human with fully functional prosthesis that would also blend in and pass as regular, functional anatomy. It was a cold, clinical and selfish approach. Kamski was looking to make a new industry out of this and Hank struggled to believe him until another late night phone call.

“Look, Lieutenant Anderson,” Kamski sighed. He actually sounded tired. “Gavin’s never been one for wild displays of emotion. We may be estranged but he is still my brother. If this is the only way I can get him to accept my help, I’ll be as shrewd and technology obsessed as he needs me to be.”

That settled the matter to an extent. On the whole, nothing had changed, carers still came and went but more often than not, they were androids. Precise, careful and not once did they forget to enquire whether Gavin needed anything else before they left. However, things also changed completely. No longer did Gavin go to Kamski’s alone. Usually Nines drove him over, stayed the night with him and left for work with Chloe reassuring him that she’ll alert him if anything happens. Most of the time, Kamski was planning, talking Gavin through options, hosting specialists to assess what could be done and when.

It at least lightened the strain on their relationship. Some evenings, Nines could sit next to Gavin and hold his hand while yet another expert poked and prodded as Kamski explained the groundworks he’d already laid, ready for the next stage.

The nights they spent at Gavin’s flat were less oppressive too. There was a shred of hope Gavin clung to and Nines fought hard not to destroy it. The outcome of the whole procedure was impossible to predict, being the first recipient of such technology meant there was no data Nines could deconstruct into probabilities and likely outcomes. All he had were guesses of two extremes. Either it was going to be a wild success, Gavin would spring up from his bed and be back to how he used to be. Or it was going to be a failure, Gavin could die during the operation or after through complications. Nines didn’t know whether that was the worst case scenario or the one where the prostheses didn’t work and Gavin was left with all illusions of hope shattered.

It was for the best to think as little as possible about it, even as the date for the first operation loomed. The following day they were both meant to be going to Kamski’s. Gavin was to have a final check-up and, if everything went as planned, he’d have the first bout of three surgeries.

They were curled up in bed, Nines’ hold on Gavin as tight as he dared make it without making it feel like a prison. Anxiety made is LED yellow with flickers of red that lit up the room along with the bedside light. Before, Gavin had always been his source of comfort, the solid base he could lean on to gather himself. The temptation to rely on Gavin again was strong, even in his vulnerable state he still seemed more stoic than Nines felt. Unthinking, he pressed a kiss into Gavin’s hair, eliciting a soft huff. It was so much like before, when Gavin would already be drifting off but tried to rouse to return Nines’ affections. Except here, Gavin wasn’t trying to press a sleepy kiss back, he was shrugging off the next kiss which landed on his cheek, his eyebrow, nose, chin, wherever Nines could reach him. His hand was on Nines’ chest, not quite stopping him but keeping him at a safe distance. Not thinking, Nines’ hand trailed down Gavin’s chest and cupped him through the shorts he’d taken to wearing to bed.

“Nines,” Gavin’s voice was a warning even if his hips pushed up into the touch.

“Please,” the way Nines’ voice trembled made him sound far too human. He didn’t want to pressure Gavin, didn’t want to force his way at all but he needed him. Needed to feel Gavin close and alive.

“I don’t think I can, either way.” It wasn’t an outright rejection, more a worry about practicalities. Before everything, they’d enjoyed a more than healthy sex life and it was something that Nines missed. While they weren’t set in their ways, Gavin did have a marked preference for riding Nines, being able to lay his hands on his chest to feel his thirium pump thunder under his palm. It also left Nines free to run his hands over Gavin, grip his thighs, curl a hand around his cock or cup his cheek, maybe even sneak the hand around the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss.

“I need to be close to you,” Nines whined. “I don’t know how else, please. Let me ride you?”

“Fuck,” Gavin hissed, his cock was filling out under Nines’ hand. “Okay, okay. But lights off. No funky night vision thing either.”

The breathy “thank you” Nines breathed against his cheek was fever warm. He focussed on his LED, let it fade out of sight as more of his synth skin pooled over it. At the same time, the lights turned off and the room was engulfed in darkness. Against Gavin’s request, Nines still activated his night vision, scanned over Gavin, his mouth was set in a firm line of emotional discomfort. It made Nines want to hold him close, tell him how beautiful he was, how much he was loved. But knowing him, knowing them, it wasn’t what was needed in that moment. Still, what Nines couldn’t use words for, he could show Gavin all the same.

With as much reverence as he could muster, he helped Gavin out of his short and t-shirt, laid kisses on the exposed skin and delighted in the way he shivered. It was so much like their first time. Nerves making way for shy pleasure, Nines almost missed those times when they’d giggle, press their foreheads together and take a moment to centre themselves.

“Nines!” Gavin’s voice brought him back to the present, allowed him to focus once more on making Gavin feel good while Nines applied more lube to his fingers. Being an android, it was a little easier as he couldn’t feel pain. His biggest concern was applying enough lube to not hurt Gavin. Once satisfied, Nines shuffled up a little, used the extra lube on his fingers to stroke over Gavin, eliciting a soft sigh from him.

Before, Gavin hadn’t been the most vocal of people in bed. Now, he was almost silent. Nines watched the way his face was scrunched up, nostrils flaring and lower lip caught between his teeth to swallow back all sounds. One hand cupped Gavin’s cheek, Nines tried to tease his lip from between his teeth with a thumb while his other hand found Gavin’s. He brought it up to his chest, laid it across his pump regulator and held it there.

Given how long it had been since either of them took any kind of physical pleasure, it was bound to be a short-lived endeavour. Looking down at Gavin’s face, he looked as though he was in pain, teeth gritted, eyes scrunched shut and a tear slipped out from under his lashes. Nines almost reached to wipe it away before remembering that he wasn’t meant to have his night vision active, wasn’t meant to be able to see Gavin in such a vulnerable state.

Fingers flexed against his chest and Nines ground his hips down, lost in trying to make Gavin feel good. Through gritted teeth, Gavin let out a cry, his body tensed under Nines and he sucked in harsh panting breaths as though he’d run a marathon. Taking it as permission, Nines allowed himself to focus on his own pleasure and a handful of seconds later his systems were running haywire.

Spent and tired, more so than anticipated, Nines slumped down next to Gavin, a hand across his chest and revelling in the strong, steady beat of his heart. Finding his words, Nines hid his face against Gavin’s shoulder.

“I’m so scared I’m going to lose you,” he whispered. He didn’t expect a hand to curl up and clutch at his.

“You lost me on the day of the accident. This is me trying to find my way back home.”


	10. Chapter 10

The trip to Kamski’s in the morning was silent. There was an odd mix of anticipation and fear in the air and it followed them into the house. As expected, the final check-up brought up nothing of concern so the operation was given the go ahead. The first stage was to implant the receiver into Gavin’s brain. It had sounded so simple when talked about, a section of his skull was going to be opened up, the nodes stuck to the inside of the bone which would then help decipher whatever impulses the artificial limbs sent. Of course, it was much more complex than that but neither Gavin nor Nines needed to know the grim details of it all.

They’d set Gavin up on a trolley, the surgical room was through a set of push doors. The anaesthetist was smiling kindly at Gavin, had even allowed Nines to stay with him until the drugs pulled him under.

“Hey,” Gavin’s voice was gentle as he reached for Nines’ hand. “I’m coming back, I promise.”

“You better,” Nines replied, voice choked off. Their fingers remained linked as the anaesthetist depressed a plunger and Gavin’s eyes slipped shut, hand falling lax.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave now,” she smiled kindly at Nines and he reluctantly left.

Waiting was terrible. There was nothing Nines wanted to do, nothing he felt he could do, except sit on the chair next to Chloe while Elijah and all the other members of the medical team did their job. Finally, someone came out.

“He’s just coming round now, but everything went well.”

Nines didn’t wait a moment longer, he rushed to the recovery room, thirium pump giving a painful lurch in his chest when he saw the bandages that were wrapped around Gavin’s head. The man himself blinked up sleepily at Nines and smiled.

“I told you I’m coming back.”

It Nines could, he would have cried. Instead, all he could do was sit in the chair next to the bed and hold Gavin’s, avoiding the cannula.

“Did it work?” Gavin asked.

“It worked.”

“Good,” the soft sigh Gavin let out with the word sounded like the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders for a moment. It also petered out into a sigh as he fell back to sleep.

Seeing Gavin recovering from the operation was hard. Nines had only taken two days off for it, knowing that Kamski and Chloe would look after him better than he and the carers ever could. Each night, after work, Nines drove out to the edge of the city so he could lie next to Gavin in bed. The incisions on his scalp were healing well, there was no sign of infection or rejection of the implants. His hair was growing back at a surprising rate and Nines found himself running his hand over it again and again.

“Prickly,” he murmured one night in the dark.

“Like the rest of me,” Gavin replied with a small, soft grin that stilled Nines for a moment. It was the first time since the accident that Gavin had smiled. He hadn’t realised just how much he missed it until he saw it again.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way,” Nines nuzzled his cheek.

The next day was the planned second operation, where the initial wires and receptors would be calibrated, strengthened and prepared for the connecting plates to be attached during the third operation. While it was deemed less risky than the first operation had been, Nines was still apprehensive. At least, this time, Gavin let himself be held close without much objection.

Leaving for work in the morning was difficult, Gavin was grumbling about being hungry but not being allowed to eat before surgery. It was scheduled for the morning and Nines couldn’t take a day off, not with all the cases going on at work. Just because his personal life was put on hold didn’t mean the rest of the world stopped too. At least Fowler, Hank and Connor were aware of what was going on so they gave him some leeway where they could.

“Any news?” Hank asked over lunch and Nines shook his head.

“The earliest I expect to hear is two.”

“Doesn’t make the wait any easier,” Hank bumped his shoulder against Nines’ in an awkward attempt of comfort.

Two o’clock came and went. Hank kept glancing over to Nines by his desk, watched the way each time a phone rang in the precinct he’d straighten up a little before sinking back into his chair. The anticipation was wearing them all down, Connor had put a small glass of thirium by Nines’ elbow on his way past and their LEDs flickered yellow, no doubt some sentiment was passed between them.

In the past, Hank had offered to change desks, to ensure that Nines wasn’t left facing an empty seat but in a fit of human stubborn denial, Nines had refused. He held onto the hope that Gavin would fill his seat again, somehow, even if it was a desk job that he took at the DPD.

It was gone four o’clock when his phone finally rang. Neither Hank nor Connor made any attempts to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping. Whoever was on the other end of the phone made Nines’ shoulders sag and he leaned forward onto the table to prop his elbows up and rested his head on his hands.

“Gavin,” he murmured, relief evident in his voice. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

It was like their strings had been cut too, Hank and Connor relaxed even though they hadn’t felt too tense. The conversation was short lived but at the end Nines wandered over.

“He’s okay.” There was no doubt about who he was talking too. “Some minor complications when it came to his arm, hence the longer than anticipated time. He’s complaining about a sore throat but that’s what you get for being intubated for so long.”

That evening, Gavin was still in what had been dubbed as the hospital wing of the mansion. Nines sat in a plastic chair next to him, held his hand and watched over him while he slept.

Recovery from such operations was time consuming. It had been over a month since Gavin had all but moved to his brother’s house. The second operation was only a week ago and the expectation was that the third one wasn’t going to be for at least another three weeks. Part of Nines missed their flat, wished they could return there but he knew that Gavin got better care and felt better at the mansion, where he could move around in his chair rather than be left on the sofa and for strangers to check in on him like a dog left locked in a house for too long.

During the night, Nines woke from his stasis for seemingly no reason. Gavin was on painkillers which knocked him out, so thankfully the night terrors had been halted for the time being. Something was off though, Nines scanned over Gavin and noted with unease that his temperature was elevated. He made a note of it and checked every half an hour. It never peaked but stayed at a steady low grade fever. In the morning, along with his painkillers, Chloe added an antibiotic to the pills and arranged for a check-up just to be safe.

It was Gavin’s arm that was giving him trouble, one of the interfaces was being rejected. Whether its placement rubbed a muscle wrong or if he’d slept on is badly, pushing it out of place by accident, nobody knew. But once more, it was a waiting game to see whether he’d need to have corrective surgery or if, given time, his body would settle. Three days later and half way through the course of antibiotics, it was deemed that Gavin was going to be okay, as long as he kept up with the physio and didn’t agitate the wound.

The weeks sped by, Gavin smiled more as the pain receded and his hopes kept climbing. He was so close now to having some semblance of normality back.

“Do you think you could make the limbs have extra functions?” he asked over an early dinner the night before the final operation. “Like, I snap my fingers to make it become a lighter. Or sticky pads so I could climb walls like Spiderman. Ooooh. Built in web slingers?”

“I probably could,” his brother replied, “but I won’t. You need to learn to use just the basic ones first. Maybe for Christmas I’ll make you an upgrade.”

Nines and Chloe stayed quiet for most of the evening, letting the other two fill the silence. Kamski had become Elijah over time, even Nines’ hardened heart had softened as he watched him and Gavin reconnect. He could only hope that after the operation, they could continue to work on their relationship rather than drift apart again.

In the morning, Nines dropped a kiss on Gavin’s head as he helped him get dressed.

“I know you know this but it will still be at least two weeks before the prosthesis can be attached to the plating.”

“I know, I know,” Gavin sighed. “I’ve made it this far, a few more weeks won’t kill me.”

If only he could actually do as he said. Nines was well aware that Gavin would be nagging about fitting the prosthesis within a week of his operation. As soon as the pain simmered down to something he could grit his teeth through, he was going to be nagging. Despite this, Nines still looked forward to it. A whining, stubborn and demanding Gavin was still better than the sullen shell he’d lived with for the last four or five months.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that this is not written by a mathematical genius in any way, shape or form. If you look at the chapter count, it becomes horrendously obvious that I cannot count. I'm very sorry!

As anticipated, the final operation was a success and Gavin was a pain in the ass five days later. He was wheedling Nines, the physios, Elijah and even Chloe, trying to charm them into letting him have prosthetics early.

“Just to try them on, to make sure they’re the right size,” he aimed a winning smile at Nines without much luck.

As difficult as it was, Nines held firm, followed all the instructions the doctors had given them, even agreed to spend another couple of weeks at Elijah’s mansion just to make sure that Gavin wasn’t going to push himself too hard with nobody around. It also was a weight off Nines’ shoulders, knowing that while he was at work, Gavin wasn’t cooped up home alone and helpless. The difference of such simple knowledge was astounding. Even Chris commented on it at the precinct, saying he looked a lot more relaxed, movement a lot more natural than the stressed robotic almost jerks of before.

At long last the waiting was over. Gavin had been given the all clear by the consultants and he was eagerly sat on the edge of a bed, all but quivering with excitement. A trolley was wheeled in with three cases and Gavin eyes them gleefully.

“This might not be a pleasant sensation to begin with,” Elijah warned as he opened up the first case. A white left leg was nestled in foam. With the ease of familiarity, Elijah pulled it out and fussed over the connection point one last time before lining it up.

It clicked into place and Gavin let out a surprised, barely choked back yell, his left hand reaching for the leg. Nines grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed his hand, waiting for Gavin to get his breathing back under control.

“Not pleasant my ass,” he grumbled.

“I could only hypothesis what it would feel like, this hasn’t been done before.” There was a slightly offended tone to Elijah’s voice, hurt by the notion that Gavin thought he’d inflict pain on purpose. “I’m going to touch you now.”

In any other situation, Gavin would have probably snickered. Instead, his breath caught in his throat with a hiss and his hand tightened on Nines’ as Elijah wrapped a hand around his ankle.

“You feel that?”

“Yeah.” Gavin’s reply was breathless, eyes fixed where Elijah’s hands were touching the white chassis of his leg.

“Wonderful. Shall we get the other one on too?”

The second box was opened and Elijah repeated his actions, this time though, Nines could feel Gavin bracing himself for the sudden influx. He still flinched as the limb formed a connection. They went through testing whether feeling in the leg had been established and Gavin let out a long huff.

“It’s like a thousand ants running around in my aura and firing off little bolts of lightning while my body chills on ice.”

“You don’t even believe in auras,” the distraction Nines was aiming for, enticing Gavin into a rant about such things didn’t quite work.

“Yeah, well, I’m willing to reconsider my stance on that as of today.”

They waited a few minutes until Gavin nodded to say he was ready for the arm to be attached. He watched it line up, and squeezed Nines’ hand as the gap between the prosthesis and his arm slowly decreased.

Nobody expected him to seize up as soon as the connection was made, back arching painfully, teeth gritted to hold back a scream.

“Get it off! Get it off!” Nines was yelling, steadying Gavin’s shaking form as Elijah tried to grip the limb and remove it. What took maybe ten seconds at most felt like an eternity and Nines cradled Gavin close to his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Gavin?” he asked softly and got a broken sniffle in return.

Elijah was looking worriedly between Gavin and the prosthetic that he was holding again. It would have been so much easier if Gavin had sat up straight, yelled at him for making it hurt or even throwing a tantrum at it not going smoothly as they’d hoped. Instead, he was crumpled against Nines’ chest, eyes squeezed shut as he panted for breath.

“Should we take the others off too?” Nines murmured into his hair. He didn’t miss the soft nod and barely audible “please”.

It was only when Nines was lying in bed next to a fitfully sleeping Gavin that he replayed the footage and realised that throughout the whole process, not once did the prosthetic legs move or even twitch.

What followed were more meetings, discussions, and head scratching. The conclusion was that the neural interface relay had been overloaded. Throughout it all, Nines sat next to Gavin, a hand within easy reach if Gavin wanted to hold it. But Gavin never did, he was stony faced, stoic through it all, silent until the experts had finished their musings.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, “Now what?”

“We take it slow. Acclimatise your nervous systems to the additional load slowly. One limb at a time,” Elijah spoke up. A few consultants glared at him but he ignored them. It wasn’t the answer they wanted to give, nor was it what Gavin wanted to hear but it was the only way he could think of keeping his brother from spiralling down. “We’ll start with the least difficult one for now, the right leg.”

“We’ll start with the arm,” Gavin countered, chin jutting out in defiance.

“I really would leave that last. The sensors and mobility in it are so much more complex.” The argument was cut short by Gavin shaking his head firmly.

“Arm. It’s going to hurt, sure. But at least if I wake up in the night in pain, there will actually be a limb there that hurts.”

Nines looked down to his lap, mouth pressed into a thin line. He’d known that Gavin hurt at times, reached for limbs that were no longer there. Sometimes his fingers would flex as though scratching an itch he couldn’t reach.

“We’ll start with the arm,” Nines announced, looking each person in the eye in turn.

The matter was settled, Gavin and Nines followed Elijah down to his lab where the prosthetics were stored.

“Just get it on, I don’t care,” Gavin’s gruff words weren’t taken to heart.

Nines stood next to him, watching helplessly as the limb was attached and Gavin let out a hiss between his teeth.

“Want to take it off?” Elijah asked, brows drawn low with concern.

Gritting his teeth, Gavin shook his head. The arm sat limp in his lap, a deadweight of pain. A minute later he still didn’t look any more comfortable.

“Look, we’ll do little and often,” Elijah reached for the arm and Gavin jerked away.

“No!” Tears of frustration wet his eyes. “It will get better. It has to. Why can’t I move it?” The last question was a whisper, filled with despair and he tipped his head down so nobody could see the tears which were starting to escape. Above him, Nines and Elijah exchanged a look.

The answer really was time and practice. Because Gavin had feeling in the arm, they knew that the connections were working. He knew when someone or something touched him, whether it was hot or cold. Elijah’s predictions that the pain would fade proved to be true too. But until then, Gavin was back on enough painkillers to make him woozy for most parts of the day.

Nines got home after work and found Gavin lying on the sofa, eyes half-mast and unfocussed even as the television played. The white chassis of the prosthetic was a harsh contrast to the black very he was wearing. They’d found that clothing rubbing persistently against the arm caused more pain than Gavin knew how to deal with.

“How are you feeling?” Nines brushed hair from Gavin’s forehead and pressed a kiss to it as he waited for an answer.

“I am,” Gavin slurred. He sounded tired and weary, more than just physically exhausted from the pain and medication regime.

Nines lifted him a little so he could sit and pull Gavin’s head into his lap, stroke through his hair and rub his neck. He felt the tension ease from his body, relaxing a little for possibly the first time that day. When Nines had been told that Gavin would pull through but have a long and difficult recovery time, he’d accepted it, anticipated it and prepared for it. But he never imagined it would be this long and hard.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consistent chapter lengths? Never heard of her.

It took weeks for Gavin to be able to have a day with only over the counter painkillers. His misery had been palpable, even when people from the station came to visit him. After Tina had been by, the station had been overcome with a soft murmur of gossip; even those who weren’t especially fond of Gavin expressed an interest in visiting him. It was funny how a novelty such as an android inspired prosthetic turned Gavin into someone of interest.

“I’m not some circus freak for people to gawp at,” he snarled when Nines relayed Person’s well wishes and query of a visit.

“I know,” Nines reached for Gavin’s hand and clasped it in his. The chassis was still as white and pristine as the day it was attached, the quality of it the same as Nines’ own body. Gavin shrugged his shoulder and the arm slipped from his grasp, flopping onto his thigh.

“Ow,” he grumbled and rubbed at the spot. His fingers curled a little.

The move was so innocuous and subtle that neither of them reacted to it initially. Only when Gavin huffed out a breath and repeated the motion did realisation set it.

“Nines! Nines!” Gavin grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer, they watched as the tips of his fingers twitched a little. With a small whoop, Gavin yanked Nines in for a one armed hug, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “I can move it!”

There were tears in his eyes as he looked down at the hand again, the fingers minutely flexing. It was a start and from then on, things didn’t let up. Elijah hired physiotherapists and androids alike to help with the progress, bought various sized stress balls for Gavin to hold, squeeze and balance on his fingers. Still, Gavin’s favourite was to try and squeeze Nines’ hand as they lay in bed each night, relishing how he could ask for an exact number on the pressure exerted. Even better was the very slow but steady incline the numbers were taking.

Some flexion was returning to Gavin’s wrist when he announced that he wants to try again with the leg prostheses. Just one to start with, but given the progress he had made, with the arm, he was keen to get on track with walking too.

Attaching the leg came with very little fanfare. It was just Gavin, Nines and Elijah in a corner of a workshop. There were android parts scattered across work surfaces, long forgotten cups of tea interspersed with old fashioned notes and drawings. Once the leg clicked into place, Gavin grunted and hunched over, teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

“Gav?” Elijah asked.

Straightening up and looking a bit pale, Gavin sucked in a breath, “I’m okay. I’m okay,” he reassured. Whether it was for Nines and Elijah’s benefit or his own, it wasn’t clear but he sucked in a breath, forced his shoulders to drop and morphed his grimace into a smile.

“That wasn’t so bad.”

Nobody called him out on his lie. That evening, Nines slipped him a few painkillers with a glass of water and wordlessly, Gavin took them.

Progress with his arm slowed with the leg in place. While Gavin could still waggle his fingers and was beginning to be able to extend his elbow, some of the strength he’d managed to build up was gone. The squeezes around Nines’ fingers were weaker.

Throughout it all though, not once did Gavin complain or seem like he wanted to give up. Each setback he encountered was met with a stubborn resistance that Nines was growing to admire. He always knew that Gavin could be like a dog with a bone, refusing to give up just because everything else was pushing him to do so. At work it had been frustrating at times, the way Gavin refused to give up on a lead, persist with a theory even when evidence for it was lacking. It paid off, even if Gavin’s initial hunch hadn’t been right, his methods garnered enough evidence to find the real solution. While not the most efficient, it got the job done and Nines only occasionally had to take a walk to cool off while Gavin gloated.

This dogged persistence carried over to his current situation. On his days off, Nines watched as Gavin pushed himself, kept trying for more, striving to move. It also meant Nines saw the tears of frustration, the anger, left hand hurling stress balls at the far wall in fits of rage. He saw them and stayed next to Gavin, let him squeeze his hand. It would have been so easy to tell him it was all going to be alright, that he was making progress so everything would turn out just fine. The lies could have spun a comfortable web around them both, cocooned them in false hope because the reality was, neither of them knew what the end result was going to be. Elijah had told them it was entirely possible that progress would halt at any moment. That they should treat each extra bit of movement as a bonus, not as an expectation.

“I want my other leg,” Gavin announced over breakfast one day.

“You can’t even wiggle your toes on your right one yet,” Elijah chided.

“Don’t care. I want it on.”

There was no arguing with Gavin, so after breakfast, Chloe brought out the final case. Hesitation stilled Elijah’s hand as he aligned the limb with Gavin’s stump. He looked up at him, licked his lips nervously.

“I would do it myself if it didn’t need two hands,” Gavin grumbled. “Just get on with it already.”

The leg clicked into place and Gavin’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes glazed over with pain while his hand shook.

“I’m taking it off.” Elijah reached for the leg but Gavin’s hand shot out, gripped his wrist tight and kept him away.

“It will pass.” His voice was weak, breathy and contorted with pain but he refused to let Elijah take the leg off.

They stayed as they were, Elijah crouched in front of Gavin, Nines to his side, ready to act the moment Gavin changed his mind. The moment never came. Slowly, Gavin forced his breathing back under control with measured huffs. He loosened his grip on Elijah’s wrist, sat up straight from where he’d been slumped and forced a smile.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he lied.

“You forget I can scan your vitals,” Nines replied, not at all impressed with the situation. “Your physiology indicated similar level of pain to being stabbed by a knife and having the blade twisted in your guts.”

Gavin glared at him.

“While at the same time being electrocuted and being shot in the foot,” Nines finished undeterred.

Elijah let out a low whistle and drew their attention away from the staring contest the two had engaged in - hot rage of shame versus cool calm concern.

“I’ll be fine,” the words were hissed out through gritted teeth and Gavin reached for the controls of his chair. “Thanks for your help,” he tossed over his shoulder at Elijah as he left.

Staying rooted to his spot, Nines watched Gavin’s retreating back. A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts.

“He’s always been this stubborn. You won’t get used to it but you’ll learn to navigate his bullshit.”

A bag was pressed into his hand and when Nines looked into it, he struggled not to sigh at the sight of yet more painkillers.

Over the course months, Gavin slowly began to have more control over his limbs. He got to the stage where he could extend his knees, lift light objects up and was trying to master using a knife and fork again.

Dinner was slow going, Gavin determined to use his knife to break the chicken into smaller pieces rather than his fork. A bit of sauce splashed out but Hank and Nines pretended not to notice. Unfortunately, Connor was missing that tact.

“Here, let me help,” he reached for the utensils without thinking.

“No!” Gavin’s sharp cry was accompanied by a weak push, his right hand grasped Connor’s wrist to shove it away. Under his hand, Connor’s skin peeled back.

The jerky step Connor took back made the room go silent. He stared at Gavin with an unreadable expression, words eluding him. The look went on so long, even Gavin hunched up a bit with a murmured “sorry, but I don’t want help”. As if a wall had been broken, Connor turned, still silent, to Nines with a hand reaching for him, chassis exposed in anticipating of an interface. It was accepted unquestioningly while Hank and Gavin looked on with confusion. They saw Nines’ expression shift from mild disapproval to surprise to heartbreak even as a soft “oh Gavin” left his lips.

Through the interface, Nines felt and saw everything that happened from Connor’s perspective. The need to help had never quite left him, even in deviancy, and he’d only wanted to make life easier for Gavin when he offered to cut up his food. The white hand that shoved him away only succeeded in moving him because of surprise rather than force. As soon as it had touched him, an interface had been forced and Connor was assaulted with a range of emotions. Frustration, humiliation, annoyance, fear – they all came tumbling through in abundance but there was none of the expected rage that Gavin had portrayed outwardly. Even second hand, the emotions burned through Nines violently enough to leave an imprint in his memory banks which he’d have to manually cleanse.

“What?” Gavin broke the silent spell with a defensive grunt.

Rather than reply, Nines walked up to him, crouched down and took his prosthetic hand in his own. The interface he initiated was much more gentle, a soft trickle of information rather than a solid wall Gavin had thrown at Connor.

At first there was no reaction, Gavin stared at him in confusion, worry etched on his brows. As Nines increased the flow of data, Gavin’s face morphed into surprise with a soft “oh” leaving his lips. The tears that trickled down his cheeks were beyond his control and he used his left hand to cup Nines’ jaw.

“I love you too,” he whispered, words breaking a little as he stammered.

It wasn’t the kind of breakthrough they were hoping for but it was a game changer. While Gavin wasn’t always the best with using words to express himself, far too reliant on chasing everyone away with a sour demeanour, it meant that Nines could offer his hand in a silent invitation. That didn’t mean Gavin always took him up on it, but the times he did, he could pour his emotions into the connection. They always hit Nines like a sledgehammer, wreaked havoc through him but he could weather the storm if it meant understanding Gavin better. They could always work on a more gentle interface approach at a later date.

On the upside of it all, Gavin had developed a new habit. It had started off as a shy little thing, they were curled up in bed one night, Gavin on his side for a change, his right hand was resting on Nines’ chest, fingers toying with the neckline of his t-shirt. At first, Nines almost missed it, the soft tickle of a sense of worry and fear of rejection that oozed through his systems. It was a little out of place, didn’t feel like his own emotions as they got stronger. That’s when he realised that Gavin’s hand had come to a still, a finger lightly resting against the base Nines’ throat. Letting Gavin interface as and when he needed had become such second nature to Nines that he had modified his firewalls to allow Gavin in no matter what. Connor had berated him for it, calling it impulsive and naively dangerous. Still, it had served Nines well so far, no mishaps and he couldn’t get over the fact that Gavin’s first interface had been with Connor and not him. It ate away at him each night, cursing himself as to why he didn’t think it would be a possibility to begin with.

In that moment though, with Gavin’s ever so tentative reaching out for a connection, he felt something in his chest ease. Nines answered Gavin’s worries with a gentle influx of warm love and curiosity. He wanted to know what was on his mind without pushing. Nothing came through the connection for a moment, then a whisper of relief and gratitude followed until Gavin fell asleep.

A few nights later, Gavin’s hand snuck under Nines’ t-shirt and came to rest over his pump regulator. This time, the hesitant trickle of the connection was a little more brave and Nines welcomed it just as before. Soon, Nines conveniently forgot to wear a t-shirt each night, allowing Gavin to connect with him whenever he needed to. It became more than just a night time thing. Some days, after a gruelling session of Gavin trying to stand or lift something heavier than a fork, he could curl up, exhausted, in Nines’ lap and let his hand stray to rest on Nines’ neck or his waist, fingers skirting under his t-shirt.

That was how Connor walked in on them once; Gavin on the cusp of drifting off, his emotions flickering between reality and dreamland. He probably heard Connor’s approach, his emotions turned to stress but not enough to rouse him. Instead, Nines got a front row seat to that being mixed in with the dreamscape that was more blur and emotion than anything else. By the time he pulled free of it, Connor was staring at him with pursed lips.

“You play a dangerous game.”

Nines shrugged as best he could without jostling Gavin, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Self-flagellation has never been your style. Why do you keep doing this?”

Their voices were low but Gavin still stirred, his hand slipped from Nines as he sat up and blinked sleepily at Connor.

“Hey,” he greeted them, eyes blinked slowly a few times and Nines slipped out from under him, letting a pillow take his place. “Thanks,” the murmur was already sot and slurred as Gavin fell back to sleep.

Wordlessly, Nines led Connor to the kitchen where he extended a hand for interfacing. He sent memories through their connection, moments where Gavin looked absolutely lost, unmoored when trying to talk about the accident. He didn’t remember anything about it. Occasionally, he’d wake up in a cold sweat, crying out before knowing fully where he was. Those were the only glimpses Nines had been able to glean before. Now, with their ability to share emotions and small amounts of data, Nines had a much deeper understanding of Gavin and his way.

“Don’t sacrifice yourself for his benefit,” Connor said as he broke the interface.

“I wouldn’t want to. But you knew that already, so why voice it?”

“Because you refuse to take my non-verbal concern to heart. So I’m making sure I’m being heard how I want to be.” Nines nodded at that, it was a fair enough point. Rather than dwelling on it, he let Connor steer the conversation to the reason he had come over. Both Nines and Gavin were invited to Hank’s for dinner one evening, if they were feeling up to it. Warmed by their thoughtfulness, Nines accepted and they walked back into the living room. Gavin hadn’t moved from his spot, looking exhausted even as he slept.

“He does push himself far too hard.” Connor’s observation was nothing new to Nines.

“The limbs exhaust him. He’s not used to the continual sensor feedback that he’s getting.”

Quietly, Connor left, wishing Nines a pleasant evening. Closing the door behind him, Nines looked over at Gavin. He had been perpetually tired for so long now, but stubbornly refused to take a break. Mind made up, Nines approached him. Lifting him was easy enough, as was manoeuvring them to the bedroom. Laying Gavin down on the bed, Nines straightened up to watch him a little more. Once he was certain Gavin wouldn’t wake, he set about disconnecting his prostheses one by one.

He took the legs away first, taking a moment between removing the left one to make sure Gavin didn’t stir. If anything, the permanent crease between his brows eased. Gently, he laid the prostheses on the floor, out of the way of harm and let the arm join them. It was easy enough to then help tuck Gavin in under the blanket and join him, holding him close to his chest. Nines entered stasis and waited for Gavin to wake.

Somewhat out of character, Gavin slept for a solid 14 hours without even really moving. He really had been pushing himself too hard and Nines frowned sadly. Perhaps it would be for the best to let him have breakfast in bed for a change.

Really, leaving Gavin alone in bed wasn’t Nines’ best ideas but even androids had moments where they messed up. He was in the middle of cracking an egg into a pan when he heard a strangled shout that had him running. Nines was stepping through the door when he saw Gavin roll off the bed in a controlled fall and huff out a breath as he thudded onto the hard ground.

“What are you doing?” he cried and rounded the bed.

Gavin was on the floor, struggling to push himself upright. His eyes were wild, casting around until they settled on where Nines had put his prostheses the night before.

“You needed a break,” Nines stood between Gavin and his limbs. “So I took them off because you’re burning yourself out.”

“Never. Ever. Take them from me again,” the snarl in Gavin’s voice was low and fierce. “Now get out of my way.”

Nines stood firm and stared down at Gavin with a disapproving glare.

“Nines, I fucking swear,” a tinge of hysteria made Gavin’s words come out higher than he’d intended, “I am not too proud to bite you on the ankle. Now let me get to my fucking parts!”

He made to drag himself around Nines in defiance and growled as his leg dragged along the carpet. The urge to scoop him up and put him on the bed was strong, but Nines had no illusions that if he tried it, neither of them would end up unscathed.

“I’m going to get you back on the bed and then help you, okay?” he finally asked and Gavin nodded even as he seethed.

The arm was the first to be attached and almost instantly Gavin was pushing all his rage and emotions through an interface. The panic, the worry, the fear followed by humiliation, resignation and finally, a grim determination. Only to have some of those rise to the surface again with a good dose of helplessness. Glimpses of images of Nines towering above him filtered through and suddenly Nines understood a little better.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, trying to send his regret and realisation over their connection. It eased Gavin’s ire a little but it still simmered away.

“Never take them away from me, okay?” he whispered and Nines nodded fervently.

Nobody mentioned how the break did actually do Gavin some good. Not only did the control of his limbs seem a little steadier, he also looked more rested and was less likely to grumble under his breath. It got to the stage that he could comfortably kneel and crawl without much hesitation. Still a little way from walking but so much better than how he had started out.  With it, something else returned too.

Gavin was lying in bed, freshly showered and changed and waiting for Nines to get into bed with him. As soon as Nines was under the blanket, he was curling against him, hand seeking out Nines’ skin to initiate an interface. Nothing out of the ordinary until Nines picked up on the faintest hints of arousal. He tried to tamp down on it, not wanting to push it through the connection onto Gavin however; it kept tickling the back of his mind.

Next to him, Gavin was eerily still. The soft arousal was flooded with hints of shame and rejection and Nines realised that what he was feeling wasn’t all him.

“Gav?”

“Sorry,” the word was mumbled and Gavin pushed away, breaking their connection, leaving Nines with traces of emotion which rapidly faded. “You don’t need to stay the night. Or I can go sleep on the couch.”

It was a ridiculous offer and Nines rolled until Gavin was pinned under him, eyes wide and hands raised to placate.

“I love you but my word you are dumb sometimes.” Nines didn’t give a chance to respond before kissing him. He threaded their fingers through and pushed for an interface, hoping Gavin would accept. Soon, the thrum of worry and hints of arousal was back and he tried to push his own feelings over; to let Gavin know that not only was he adored but also very much desired. It seemed to do the trick as Gavin arched into him and flashes of ideas he was too embarrassed to voice helped guide Nines.

He helped Gavin turn onto his hands and knees, eased his shorts down and pressed soft kisses to exposed skin. All through it, Nines kept a light hold of his wrist, keeping their connection open. Because as bad as Gavin was at putting into words what he wanted, he was just as stubborn about rejecting compliments aimed at him. Through the interface, there was no lying though. There was no way Nines could fabricate the depths of his emotions which he showed Gavin freely, wanted him to get lost in the sense of being loved.

Desperately, Nines wished he could erase all manner of self-doubt from Gavin. Help him believe that his prostheses didn’t make him any less desirable. That any scarring he bore was testament to his life and Nines loved him in his entirety. The shame didn’t lessen from Gavin so Nines tried to swallow it up, stifle it in his own response. He never broke their connection as he opened Gavin up slowly, fingers stretching him while he listened through their connection for any discomfort.

He knew exactly when Gavin’s thoughts switched from self-conscious self-loathing to flickers of pleasure. At first it was little bursts, quickly quashed by whispers of ‘underserving’, ‘monster’ and ‘you shouldn’t be here’. In response, Nines pushed all his emotions through, the devotion, respect, how he cherishes each moment with Gavin and how good he felt in the moment.

The worries of Nines not finding Gavin attractive anymore were combatted by Nines peeling his skin on his arm back. He let his chassis show through, matched it to Gavin, skin only showing from the middle of his bicep up. A swell of gratitude washed over him and Nines rewarded it with a kiss to Gavin’s shoulder.

He was careful not to break their connection, though Nines shifted it from holding hands to letting their legs brush together. It left his hands free to help hold Gavin’s hips as he lined up and slowly pushed in. Under him, Gavin trembled, head hanging low between his arms until Nines guided him down, helped him press his chest into the bed as he leaned over him.

“Oh fuck,” Gavin whined and Nines rubbed a soothing thumb over his hip.

He took his time, set a slow pace, barely pulled out of Gavin before rocking back in, rolled his hips and relished in each soft pant, watched as Gavin’s face scrunched up, especially when Nines shared his pleasure.

Nines didn’t expect Gavin to reach for his hand, to clasp their fingers together and for a fleeting wish to whip through his systems. Understanding what Gavin wanted, Nines leaned forward, wrapped an arm under Gavin’s chest and helped pull him upright. Chest to back, Gavin’s legs trembled under the stress of kneeling.

Holding him close, Nines wrapped his arms around Gavin, held him upright and let him tip his head back onto his shoulder. That had the added benefit of exposing the lines of his neck, prime for open mouthed kisses.

“Please,” Gavin whimpered and took one on Nines’ hands in his left, guided him down to his cock. Together, they wrapped their fingers around him and Nines rocked up into him.

His other hand rested on the base of Gavin’s throat, anchoring him, their connection keeping them grounded even as their combined pleasure climbed higher.

“Fuck, Nines, I can’t!”

“You can, trust me,” Nines nipped at his jaw, pressed deeper into him and sped up their hands. He could feel how close Gavin was, trembling and fighting his release. Nines closed his eyes and focussed on his own pleasure, letting it wash over Gavin too. The moment it tipped from resistance to letting it consume them took Nines off guard. His teeth sank into Gavin’s shoulder, leaving a perfect imprint as he came, basking in Gavin’s own pleasure as their hands stilled around his spent cock.

They flopped down onto the bed, grimacing at the mess but chose to ignore it as they tried to catch their breath. Absentmindedly, Gavin reached for Nines’ hand, echoes of a soft but genuine ‘thanks’ loud in their connection. The ‘I love you’ Nines sent back was met with shy warmth but not a hint of doubt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a day later than expected. Thank you for your patience!

There was a marked change after that night. Nothing that Nines could put his finger on but the raw desperation of solitude receded from Gavin. That wasn’t to say it was easy but at least Gavin allowed Nines to be there when he was doing physio so Nines could watch the first shaky step he took in over a year. They never mentioned that as soon as he took then step, Gavin was tumbling down to the ground, arms which had been shaking with the exertion of helping keep himself up on the frame giving out. Nor did they mention the tears which leaked from the corner of his eyes both relief at being able to take a step and frustration at not being able to do more.

Once the evidence was there that Gavin could do it, he worked harder, pushed himself to his limits. The physios became used to his quiet tantrums and he lost his shame as the frustration of slow days broke him down to ugly crying. His left arm was almost perpetually covered in bruises as he tried to catch himself from falling. Each night, Nines kissed the bruises better while Gavin laughed and swatted them away.

“I have a question for you,” Elijah asked one evening. He had come round for their weekly dinner; something that Gavin had been the one to insist upon when they moved back to their flat.

“You have a question you don’t know the answer to? Surely not!” The teasing from Gavin was laughed off and Elijah flicked a bit of pasta at him. Nines was quietly pleased that it was Gavin’s right hand that darted out to defend himself from it.

“Alright, smartass. But seriously, I’ve been thinking. Do you want synthskin covering your prostheses? I can get a good colour match, even program your old moles, freckles and scars back if you want.”

“I hear a but,” Gavin sighed.

“Yeah,” the slow nod Elijah gave filled Nines with trepidation. “I’d need the limbs back for at least a week if not two. Then you’ll have to learn to control the skin. It might mess with your sensors and may well set your progress back a bit.”

The slow gaze Gavin turned to his white and grey arm was full of thought. He flexed his fingers, ran through the movement exercises almost out of habit as he pondered it all. Nines didn’t expect hazel eyes to find his with a small grin.

“I think I like the irony,” Gavin snickered, “of the two of us, I was born human but you look and behave like one more than I do.”

Nines laid a hand over Gavin’s let his skin peel back and sent a surge of warm love through their connection. The childish ‘ewwww’ Elijah let out had them tamping down on giggles and turning as one to stare at him.

“No that’s just creepy,” Elijah looked between them. “At least blink you weirdos.”

Nines was the one to blink first and he felt a surge of joy through their still open connection.

With the decision about forgoing a skin covering for the time being, it allowed Gavin to focus on getting mobile again. Nines had installed bars throughout their flat so Gavin could grip them if he wanted to. There were only so many times he was willing to hear from carers that they found a sweaty and exhausted Gavin on the floor. So the handles were put up and Nines never mentioned that Gavin could crawl if he needed to.

One evening, Nines opened the door and noted that the sofa was empty of Gavin. Recently he had been more active, usually Nines found him clinging to one of the bars near the door, reaching out for a greeting kiss which usually turned into being scooped up. An enthusiastic greeting was a nice cover to avoid acknowledging that once again, Gavin had pushed himself too far.

“Nines!” Gavin’s voice floated from near the bedroom and was filled with excitement. “Stay there!”

Immediately on alert, Nines froze to the spot and watched as Gavin appeared in the doorway. On unsteady feet, he began the slow journey of 10 steps between them, completely unsupported.

“Look! I’m doing it!” There was a hint of giddy euphoria in his voice.

“Gavin,” Nines struggled to believe it. Relief flooded his systems along with elation. He had quietly given up hope on ever seeing Gavin walk unsupported several times. Never before had Nines been so glad to have his predictions and statistical outcomes proven wrong. He watched as Gavin’s steps became wobbly.

“Just a few more steps darling, you can do it.” Nines reached his arms out and watched as the last two steps became a tumble and Gavin crashed into his arms with a laugh. “I’m so proud of you,” Nines whispered in his hair.

Gavin’s arms wrapped around him more firmly and Nines scooped him up. It was a testament to Gavin’s exhaustion that he didn’t even put up a token protest at the fact, simply let himself be carried to the sofa.

“I want to go back,” Gavin murmured, face still hidden in his neck. “I think I’m ready.”

There was no need to clarify what he was talking about. Nines nodded and squeezed him once before speaking, “Let’s have a chat with Captain Fowler after the weekend.”

The chat turned into a meeting which ended with an assessment date for return to desk duty. Gavin’s excitement was contagious and he put so much effort into getting around, half the time Nines got home to him half passed out on the sofa, dark bags under his eyes.

Returning to work after so long away was strange. After the morning briefing where he wheeled himself in because walking was still too much, there was a mixed reaction. People welcomed him back with smiles, some forced and insincere while other stared at him from afar. Gavin shrugged them off and threw himself into reorienting himself with his desk and new work.

After two weeks, it was evident that Gavin was flagging. He’d insisted he was fine but by the end of the working day he was slumped in his chair, yawns barely suppressed. There were mutterings from their less charitable co-workers but Gavin seemed intent to ignore them. They quickly shut up when Nines just so happened to make a passing comment about it in front of Captain Fowler. It made Nines’ estimations of the man rise, no matter what anyone said, he stuck up for his subordinates.

The success of Gavin’s prostheses was bound to make the news at some point. All of a sudden there were reporters lingering by the doors of the DPD, waiting to catch Gavin on his way home, vying for a comment and a picture. Sensibly, he and Nines started leaving by the backdoor and at different times to usual.

Soon, the trembling steps Gavin took became steady; he could walk without problems around their flat and even managed to do their flights of stairs up though down still caused him a bit of an issue. Once or twice, a neighbour walked around him scooting down them one at a time on his backside. Nines walked quietly next to him, continuing their conversation as though it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

They hit a stage where it was no longer a matter of lack of control but rather a lack of confidence which held Gavin back. Because despite his obstinacy and determination to succeed, a part of him was still terrified, not that he would ever admit to it. Sometimes, Nines would catch a glimpse of it as they interfaced while Gavin dropped off but probing towards it always ended with him waking up and closing himself off.

“Get up,” Nines nudged Gavin one morning. He deftly avoided the sleepy arm that tried to latch onto him and drag him back down onto the bed. “No, come on.”

“Fine, fine,” the half asleep grumble was definitely not endearing.

The temptation to let himself be bundled back into bed was great but Nines had bigger plans. He pulled a ratty t-shirt from the wardrobe and threw it at Gavin, along with a pair of shorts.

“Up you get,” he hauled Gavin up when grabby hands were made towards him.

Squinting and still half asleep, Gavin pulled the clothes on and stood, “what we doing?”

“We’re going for a jog.”

The statement hung in the air and Gavin let out a disbelieving laugh.

“Yeah, no. No we’re not.”

“We are. I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you downstairs if I must but we’re going.”

The grumbling was incessant as Gavin followed him. Out in the cool fresh air, Nines started off at a light pace, barely more than a gentle jog at a speed that even most grannies would have over taken them at. Thankfully, Gavin fell into line next to him.

They weren’t out for long. Maybe 10 minutes before Gavin was laying a hand on Nines’ arm, his exhaustion barely allowing for the data transfer to say he was at his limit. The walk back was slow and the few people out walking their dogs or jogging stared a little when Nines finally convinced Gavin that a piggyback ride was a sensible idea.

Jogs became a regular morning occurrence after that. They even get to nodding terms with some of the other regulars they see out and about. Gradually the short jogs became longer, faster. It was a marvel how much Gavin improved, especially when Nines distracted him from things with silly games. Their version of ‘I Spy’ was a little more creative, the letters being short for a crime. So when Gavin announced he spied the letter ‘m’ Nines had to scour their surroundings, spot the person Gavin had singled out as potentially being a murderer. In exchange, Nines’ letter ‘p’ was an 80 year old pickpocket with a small white dog.

It was easy enough to forget that their morning runs weren’t just for the sake of Gavin’s health and co-ordination. All too soon he was back in the field, a few months after starting back at work. He and Nines worked seamlessly as partners, their moments of interfacing helping their intuitions along. It was why when Nines touched Gavin’s hand at a crime scene, Gavin was moving before even Nines realised what he was seeing. A bullet sailed above them, exactly where Nines’ head would have been had Gavin not shoved them to the ground.

In a display of surprising speed, Gavin was up and turning on the fleeing suspect, tackling him to the ground and reciting the Miranda Rights through gritted teeth. Nines sat up, leaning on his elbows as he watched, suddenly overcome with a mixture of pride and raw desire. Tamping down on it, he picked himself off the ground and nodded at Gavin, professional as you please.

“Thank you, Detective.”

“No worries. Help me get this butthead into a patrol vehicle.”

Nines tried not to snicker at Gavin’s less than generous summary of their criminal. They should have expected it really, that with such an incident and Gavin being involved, the press would be interested. It got so bad that Captain Fowler held a press conference with Nines and Gavin next to him to field questions. Most, as expected, were directed towards Gavin.

“Detective Reed,” one journalist began, “as we all know, you’re the real life RoboCop. What have you learnt from having android limbs?”

It wasn’t a question that they’d prepared for. Most of their guesses had centred around returning to work, living with prostheses, maybe even about having Kamski as a relative. Gavin took a deep breath.

“I learnt a lot.” His voice was low and soft. “Not even the things I expected to learn. I’m no better at anatomy, no more knowledgeable in android mechanics. If a limb were to fritz, I’d be helpless to fix it.”

Murmurs went up in the crowd at that but everyone settled when Gavin opened his mouth to speak again.

“What I did learn? It’s that family is what you make of it. It’s never too late to reconnect, to make new links. I learnt humility, vulnerability and, perhaps most importantly, love.”

His hand reached towards Nines’ where it rested on the table and their fingers linked as Gavin shot him a shy little smile. Questions were yelled at them as soon as realisation dawned on the meaning of it all. Thankfully, Captain Fowler helped keep the journalists more or less on topic though a few personal questions still got through. Throughout it all, Gavin didn’t let go of Nines’ hand.

Getting back home, Gavin eyed Nines up with a small smile.

“So, I was going to take you on a date tonight,” he began, lips already twitching up as he tried not to laugh at his own joke. “I phoned the library to make a reservation but they couldn’t have us. Said they were fully booked.”

Nines gave him a flat stare and pulled his jacket off, not letting even a hint of amusement flicker across his features. Next to him, Gavin threw his hands up in defeat with a whine.

“Oh come on, that was a textbook joke!”

“No.” Nines’ refusal was flat and he watched the pout form on Gavin’s lips. “What are you nervous about?”

It was Gavin’s turn to blink, eyes widened at being so easily seen through.

“Who said you can read me like an open book?” his joke fell flat as Nines watched him. “Fine. Fine. Fancy a fuck?”

He was already on his way to their bedroom, pulling his t-shirt over his head and letting it drop on the floor in a trail more annoying than breadcrumbs. At least those Nines could send to Roomba to vacuum up but he had to pick the clothes off the floor himself. Stooping down, he grabbed the t-shirt, then picked up the socks, trousers and underwear as he followed Gavin’s less than sexy trail.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frozen in the doorway as he watched Gavin.

“Getting naked,” the reply was thrown at Nines as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. On the bed, Gavin was fiddling with his left leg, fingers pressed into the divots as he twisted the limb and it came off with a click. It joined his right leg on the floor and Gavin looked up at him expectantly.

“So, you going to help with this?” He waved his right arm about, making a show of how he couldn’t take it off with one hand. Nines stayed in the doorway, trying to wrap his mind around what Gavin was doing. “Or you know, you could go put a wash on or something and we’ll pretend this never happened. I’ll meet you in the living room.”

A flush spread over Gavin’s cheeks and flooded down to his chest, he didn’t raise his eyes to meet Nines’ as he retracted his offer. It was so easy to drop everything in his arms and take a few hurried steps to the bed. Nines crawled his way up to Gavin, pushed him flat on his back as he kissed him without warning or finesse. Their fingers tangled and Nines couldn’t even put a word to the emotions he was feeling and pushing across to Gavin. There was admiration, gratitude, love, humility all mixed in and it washed over the hurt and embarrassment that swept in from Gavin. A hint of an apology from Nines was what broke their lips apart.

“I want you,” he whispered against Gavin’s lips. “Just as you are.”

Together, they sat up and Nines reverently removed the prosthetic arm, lips pressing to where it had been attached. He helped Gavin lie back down on the bed, his arm thrown above his head and clutching at the pillow.

Nines helped him shift down a little, grabbed another pillow for under his hips and watched as Gavin’s breath hitched at each gentle touch. His hand reached for Nines, linked their fingers together and even though they couldn’t interface, Nines knew exactly what emotions Gavin was trying to convey. He leaned down and kissed him as a finger pressed against his hole, swallowed the soft gasp followed by a pleased little hum.

It’s easy enough to know when he found the right spot with his finger because Gavin’s body jerked and the hum turned into a throaty moan.

“More, please, I need you,” he rasped and Nines was only too happy to comply.

Slowly, he worked Gavin’s body open with his fingers, careful to avoid teasing him too much. That wasn’t Nines’ aim in that moment. He worked a third finger in as he kissed Gavin’s neck and chest, tongue flicking out from between his lips in little licks. He was surprised when Gavin curled a hand behind his neck and pulled him up for another kiss, his muscles quivered under Nines’ touch.

“Please, I’m ready.”

Any other day, Nines would have been tempted to tease; instead, he helped Gavin adjust a little on the pillow, linked their fingers and watched his face intently as he pushed in. The way Gavin’s lips parted, his teeth glinted in the sunlight, only the tips of his canines visible caught Nines’ attention. He leaned down to kiss him again, unable to stay away from Gavin’s kisses for long.

Rolling his hips slowly, Nines admired the way Gavin’s body flexed under his. Muscles strained as he tried to match his moves, half bitten off pleas urged Nines to move. Gradually, he picked up the pace, licked cries from Gavin’s mouth and left the impression of his teeth at the junction of his neck.

Desperate to hold him closer, Gavin wrapped his arm around Nines’ shoulder and pulled him down. It had the unintentional benefit of trapping his cock between their bodies, the slow push and pull of Nines’ hip a wonderful rhythm of friction. He could feel Nines quiver above him, thoughts of holding back his pleasure long forgotten. Gavin needed him, wanted to hold him close as they came.

His wish was granted, Nines pressed deeper into him with a hint of desperation, a few less controlled thrusts and he was gasping Gavin’s name wetly. It made Nines’ systems loop, his body moved on autopilot, repeating the last set of orders for a few more seconds until he could think clearly. That was all the time Gavin needed, his whole body tightened up, muscles solid under Nines before going lax with spasms of aftershocks.

They lay there, in each other’s arms for a few minutes until Nines slipped from his loose hole; a small trickle followed his limp cock.

“I’ll grab a few wipes,” he eventually whispered and waited for Gavin to nod before leaving the bed.

On his return, he helped Gavin clean up, wiped his stomach and thighs, smiled gently at how pliant he was in his hands. There wasn’t a shred of self-consciousness as he stretched and grinned at Nines.

“Could you grab my arm please?”

“And your legs too?”

Gavin shook his head firmly, “Just want to be able to feel you while we doze.”

The arm clicked into place and immediately, Gavin was pulling Nines down, their connection firmly established before their heads hit the pillows. Snuggling in, Gavin stroked the fingers of his right hand up and down Nines’ arm, teasing him with hints of emotion before wrapping his palm firmly around his bicep.

The contentment Nines felt over their connection echoed his own and he sent a quick burst of love back before allowing stasis to finally claim him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it! This has been one heck of a ride. Thank you so much for reading it, being patient when it turned out I couldn't count (the 5 chapter initial estimate got a little blown out of the water...) and had more to say than intended. Your comments, cheer-leading and general positivity has been mind blowing. Thank you again for being so wonderful!

**Author's Note:**

> Got ideas? Want to scream about things? Find me on tumblr to do so, @connorssock.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [What Happens When the Nexus Goes Down?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625003) by [chronoshifter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronoshifter/pseuds/chronoshifter)




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